Bodyguard
by Angkeats
Summary: Hi, I'm Gabriella Montez- singing extraordinaire. I even have a bodyguard, his name is Troy Bolton and he annoys the heck out of me. But seeing as my parents go AWOL and think I'm gonna get attacked, I have to put up with him. If only he wasn't so sexy...
1. Do You Like Chinese

Well here it is, the new story! Please Comment and review :)

**CHAPTER 1**

"Can I have a hug, please?"

"What?"

"A hug. You know where you put two arms around someone when they're feeling emotional?"

"I'm your bodyguard."

_Meet Troy Bolton. My bodyguard._

"So bodyguards don't know how to hug?"

Sometimes, the way he looks at me, he's not like a _guy _at all. He's like my dad. All disapproving and serious. I swear he's like, barely mid-twenties and he's got that old-man look down pat.

Only he _is _a guy. A very nice-looking guy. A guy an eighteen year old girl like me could crush on happily with all those muscles and that shortly spiked hair which could so easily be a Mohican if he acted his age and not like a middle-aged man.

"Let's move," he tells me in his no-nonsense tone. His only tone. His face is always set, just so. His jaw tight, his brows furrowed. Big, thick brown brows that dominate his blue, blue eyes.

"It wouldn't hurt to crack a smile now and then," I tilt my head and smile tightly, quickly throwing tampons in my shopping basket.

He copies my tight smile then flicks looks around him, always assessing the scene.

"How's that?"

"Pathetic."

"I'm not even supposed to be talking to you," he muses, walking with me toward the till.

"Who told you that?" I turn on him and the grey edge of his eyes is distracting my gaze there.

He lifts his brows patiently.

"My dad," I sigh.

"Mr Montez is the boss," he reminds me unnecessarily.

"Never mind that _I'm _the one with a sucky minder trailing me 24 hours a day…" I mutter, annoyed at my father's rules.

"James sucks too?" Troy is surprised and I almost laugh at the way his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

"It's part of the job description isn't it?" I enquire drily. "Wanted: Body guard for famous, wayward daughter. Must be a total asshole."

"Now I'm an asshole?" He looks peeved at that.

"You know what I meant…" I apologise with a sorrowful look.

"Yeah." He nods shortly. "Spoiled brat can't handle authority. I see it all the time."

/

How dare he call me a spoiled brat? It's not like I've _always_ been famous and been pampered my _entire_ life. It just _happened_. And with parents like mine, you can't help but keep your feet on the ground. They just do not butt out of my life- going as far as hiring me a bodyguard when my singing career took off and a man ran on stage on my first joint tour and bear hugged the life out of me.

They got some weird paranoia he was really trying to shoot me and they didn't want 'their baby to be hurt doing what she loves'. I guess I_ was_ sixteen at the time. Sixteen and so green to the world and how fast I have had to grow up since then…

I wouldn't change a second of it.

Even though I am considering getting take out with a cocked hip, hand on it, staring into the window of the Chinese take-away, wondering if anyone will eat with me tonight.

Mom and Dad are in New York- home. I'm in Texas city- recording. Taylor and Sharpay- my best girl friends in the world- playing like Carrie Bradshaw and Samantha in Sex and the City. Chad's playing baseball in Boston right now. Ryan's in the middle of a cruise singing his little heart out, just like me, just further away.

And who do I know in Texas?

My record producer, manager and publicist. Oh, and Troy. If you would count me as _knowing_ him. And James of course. James who actually sticks to my dad's rules and comes off a lot creepier in his silence.

"Do you like Chinese?" I ask the brown haired, blue eyed wall of muscle beside me as he stands, feet apart, hands together, facing the street.

"Sometimes." He answers annoyingly.

"Do you fancy some? I'm buying…"

"It's…" He pulls up his grey suit sleeve and looks at his watch. "Ten past eleven at night."

"I'm sorry, am I keeping you from something?" I stride into the shop and quickly order some kung-po chicken and rice, prawn crackers and toast _and_ seaweed on the side.

Troy follows me in and lifts his chin to the attendant behind the counter. "Can I get some chow mein please?"

"Oh, he eats," I smirk.

Troy merely blinks at me. "It's been five days. Five days of sitting in studios, listening to you wail, having you constantly talking at me and yeah, sometimes I do eat and I do talk and you know what? If I had to spend a minute longer than twelve hours with you I might just go insane. So give me a break for a while, huh?"

I look at him and feel tears fill my eyes, my precarious emotions rising fast. "I do not wail," I tell him in a firm, hurt voice, blinking my lashes down to dispel the tears there, feeling more following even though I should know better than to listen to his stupid remarks.

"You're right. I apologise." He remarks formally, flicking two or three concerned looks my way.

"No hug?" I enquire, used to having these frequently from my mum and dad or my tactile friends.

"I'm not your boyfriend." He says.

I sigh. _Nope. _That's because I don't have a boyfriend. Eighteen, single and living my dream. It can be a lonely place…

"Food's up." I tell him, grabbing two paper sacks and following him out, getting a rare glimpse of his tight backside in those suit pants, as he normally trails me.

When he does that, my ass feels like it grows three sizes and suddenly wobbles in ways it never did before.

I'm a size twelve. It's not skinny. It's not even a regular size, but anyone over a six in this business is classed 'fat'. I'm twice that. I am tall, though. About five nine, leggy and slim, and equally set in the hips and boobs, something I am grateful for.

My hair is long, black and sleek with straighteners, sexy with curlers or wavy messy naturally. My eyes are green-hazel. Like chips of glittering amber and topaz, a twinkling mix of colours. They're from my mother- a mixed race Haitian.

And then there's my name. Montez. Gabriella Montez. Teen singing sensation extraordinaire. Only I need a bodyguard. That's kind of scary.

/

"Home, sweet home." I swing my handbag- brown tanned and fringed if you must know- onto the hotel bed and head over with my food, clutched preciously to my chest.

"You're hogging it," Troy accuses as he follows me in and reaches for his sack as I sit and dump the packs on the bed.

"I'm a greedy monster," I smile innocently, tasting prawn bread and closing my eyes in bliss.

"I noticed," he quips drily to himself and I elbow him when he sits next to me on the bed.

"We should go on a road trip tomorrow after I finish recording for the day!" I gasp excitedly.

"You can go wherever you like," he comments, drumming it into me just how alone I am.

"But don't you want to come?"

"I have to come." He smiles flatly, enjoying his chow mein with a youthful enthusiasm I hadn't seen before. Who knew the key to Troy Bolton's real age was Chinese food?

I put my food down, suddenly realising he was right. I had no-one to enjoy my experiences with. No-one to share the views. No-one to get excited about road trips or tell me well done today. No-one who cared.

I nod at him, but I'm not focusing, merely agreeing silently as I push my remains to one side and get up, heading for the bathroom.

"Gabriella?" He calls me and I keep walking, into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

Here I can feel the effect of his words seep into my skin from the cold floor tiles, where I choose to sit and cry. It's nearly midnight and I somehow hope he might stay; finish his food and hang out with me for a while when James takes over. But he is only here because he is paid. Not because he wants to be. Who would want to be, I wonder? Who would follow me around or wait for me while I live this demanding life? Who would take the strains for the glimpses of rewards?

It had been a dateless few months that was for sure.

When I came out, he wasn't even there. He hadn't even said goodbye or knocked the door to tell me his shift was finished and I opened the room door to find James there in the hallway in conversation with Troy, both interrupted by my nosiness.

"I'll be right back in." Troy tells me with a direct blue gaze I can't argue with.

"Okay," I nod and turn back inside, feeling bolstered by his words. So he's coming back. He's finishing his food and hanging out. Maybe I'm not such an abhorrent brat after all…

"James noticed some activity outside so we're both on duty tonight." He tells me as he comes back in, in complete business mode.

"You can't work twenty-fours hours straight," I argue.

"I'm not going to. I'm going to sleep. But any noise will wake me up; I'm trained," he adds assuringly.

"What kind of activity did you notice outside?" I wonder worriedly.

"Just kids being kids," Troy quickly dismisses and I frown at him, getting up to track over to the window to peel back the curtain.

"Gabriella…"

Outside there are about five teen girls parading in a continuous circle with banners saying 'Gabi is a bitch' and 'Texas don't want Montez here' and equally childish remarks.

"I'm a bitch?" I wonder, thinking how this might be.

"They're just being kids," he repeats.

"Then why are you taking them seriously?" I squint at him.

"There's a group of guys, on the wall. They're drinking alcohol and I wouldn't mind betting they wouldn't say no if you asked them to dance," he derides. "If you go out there and those girls see that, anything could happen to you."

Right there, I had a stripe of something shoot down my tummy, taking my breath away. His words were so protective- he sounded like he actually cared and I found myself staring at him.

"It's my job to make sure it doesn't," he adds firmly.

"I wish you would wear jeans and try to blend in," I remark as I process the information he has given me; and that I have seen with my own eyes.

He watches me as I walk back by him toward the bed, laying down on it and remaining still.

"You've been pretty upset all night, is everything ok?" He checks.

"I'm a spoiled brat who my own bodyguard can't stand spending time with, only out of force. I have not one friend in this big city that I can share my fun with and to top it off, half the city hates me because I'm good at what I do. I'm fine," I sark.

"Have you called your parents?" He suggests.

I laugh shortly. "And remind myself how depressing my life _really _is? No thanks."

"If it's so depressing then why do it?" He wonders, finishing my prawn toast as he sits back down. "Why keep touring and recording and putting yourself through that?"

"Because the music, I love," I sit up to emphasise this. "Singing is what I was destined to do."

"I'll take the chair." He says of his sleeping place, shrugging off his jacket and revealing a pair of big, thick shoulders that lay tight against the cotton of his pale blue shirt.

"Don't be silly," I argue of the King bed that monopolises the room.

"I can shoot better from there," he adds and I nod.

"I see."

"I'm going out to my room to get my clothes so I don't have to sleep in this suit all night," he tells me as he walks over to the door and slips right out, leaving me alone in the quiet. I quickly change into my pyjamas and brush my teeth, wash my face and tie my hair back, into a high bun out of my way.

I'm snoozing when he comes back in, with a quiet close of the door and creeping of light feet, something that frightens me into a quick sitting position to check it really is him and not someone who stole his key pass in the corridor.

"Sorry," he winces.

"You scared me," I take a breath.

"You're really not yourself, Gabriella," he remarks.

"How do you know I'm not always crying and jumpy?"

"Because I watched you whoop major ass with Antonio when you went kickboxing together," his blue eyes twinkle knowingly and I am gobsmacked at his jibe. (Antonio is my manager in case you wondered.)

"I just wanted to be sure it was you who was coming back in."

"As opposed to…"

"Freaky hating girls." I supply and I notice something flick across his face. Something like regret.

"Would you rather I didn't tell you things like that?"

"No. My father may think I can be protected from the world but I don't yearn for censorship," I assure.

He nods. "I'm getting changed." He tells me.

"Can I watch?"

He closes the door on my joke and I put my head down to the pillow and sleep, too exhausted to do anything else.


	2. A Lot to Learn

Aw thanks for the amazing reviews already! I really hope you like this one :)

Kudos and mention must go to 'unknownbyhim22' who wrote 'Protecting Miss Montez' and inspired me to write my own Bodyguard story. Please check out my favourites to read it!

**CHAPTER 2**

The girls are persistent, I'll give them that.

They've grown in numbers and as I stride out in my skinny jeans, black ankle boots and long black vest with my fringed tan bag; most of them surge forward for an autograph and a picture.

There's still the small group of haters, I always have those, but the fact they're spending their time out to come and hate me is strangely reassuring. And now there's a group of people who actually like me, too.

Troy is at my side, being all professional again, back in his suit with his cold blue stare assessing the crowd. Sometimes I wonder how he does it, how he stays so closed off and I'm staring at him as my thoughts follow their path of intrigue when one of the fans approaches.

"You look so pretty…" One of the girls tells me.

"Oh, thank you. So do you," I smile back.

"I love your boots."

"They're from Leyla's, you should check them out."

"Your bodyguard is hot," another girl states, making me look up with surprise.

"I know, he wouldn't believe it if you told him though," I remark with a smile.

"Gabriella's bodyguard?" The girl taps his shoulder and he presses his lips together.

"You're hot. Gabriella thinks so too."

He looks at her, then at me and challenges me to save him. I merely smile back wanly.

"Thank you." He manages to say in response, closing himself off from the girls once more.

"Thank you! I think you're awesome!" The girl called as I finished up signing, sending a small wave and a big smile to them as I dash off, Troy in quick pursuit.

"Do you have to embarrass me like that?" He grouches as we head for the car.

"Hey, she said it," I defend.

"You encouraged her."

I stare at him, across from the driver's seat, waiting for him to look at me. When he finally does I can see he honestly doesn't feel comfortable with the compliment.

"I'm sorry." It might be the first time I have ever said it to him. He seems surprised.

"No problem." He nods curtly and I see him look back out of the window, distracted by his job again.

James left when I left my room. Normally, he would accompany me to the recording studio and Troy would come down at midday to swap over; but today was different. Troy was insisting on staying with me and I couldn't help but wonder why.

"Don't you get a break today?" I ask as I work through the traffic.

"James is taking over at midday. We swapped shifts so I can do the nights."

"Can you start at eight and change the crossover times? I like having you around when I finish my day."

He looks to me and I shift awkwardly in my seat with a swallow. "I know, it's business, not a social arrangement," I sigh from his many repeated versions of that phrase.

"If you want me to, then I will." He says and I almost crash the car. Quickly regaining control of the steering wheel, I cough the clear my husky throat and blink three times.

"Really?"

"That's my instructions." He affirms and then it all makes sense to me.

_Dad_.

"What's he said to you?" I ask cynically, turning from surprised to hurt. "'Do anything she asks?'"

He shrugs. "That's about the top and bottom of it."

"That's ridiculous!"

"You don't have to tell me…"

"Then why are you doing it?"

"He's paying my wages unless you forgot…" He muses.

"This is insane," I pull the car over to the side of the road and exit with an angry door slam, stomping off to dissipate the anger burning through my veins. _How dare he!_ How dare he tell them to do anything I want! Is that why Troy stayed last night? Because I was upset and wanted him there? Just when did this conversation take place?

I stop when two arms tighten around my waist, winding the breath from me.

"Hey!" Troy commands as he halts me, quickly letting go again when I remain still.

"Hey what?" I ask back sarcastically.

"Don't run off like that." He tells me, his blue eyes training over my face with concern.

"Why not? Is that in your instructions too? 'Must not let Gabriella run off', like I am some little child who needs controlling?"

"You need protecting," he tells me, making my heart beat hard. "I can't do that if you run away."

"Maybe I'm fed up of having people paid to like me. Maybe I'm fed up of being tailed twenty-four seven. Maybe I just want to be able to go to the beach for a day with the people I love and have some fun." I throw my arms up to animate my frustration.

"I'm not paid to like you." He offers.

"I know." I stare at him pointedly.

It's like we're having a stare-off or something, as we both squint our eyes and hold ground, neither of us wanting to look away.

"Are you going to drive to work today or not?" He enquires with the tiniest flick of smugness on his upturned lips.

_Oh, I could hit him right now_; I shake my head with my own grim smile of annoyance. He seems to take great amusement in getting right under my skin and insulting me constantly and I _refuse_ to let him get the better of me.

I push my shoulders back, use my full height to look as haughty as I can manage and I stride by him back towards my car, leaving him to follow me once more.

I regret the skinny jeans as I imagine him zeroing in on my thunderous thighs and as I sit in the car and strap myself in, I turn to him to check his face, wondering what expression I might find there.

My heart sinks as I see nothing but calculating blue eyes, swishing side to side, checking for danger, looking for threat and finally, the cold blue stare falls upon me.

"Do you want me to drive?" He asks, with nothing but practicality in his voice.

I press my lips together and twist the ignition key. "No thank you."

/

Singing my heart out in the studio was tiring. Amazingly rewarding, extremely exciting and my life's dream come true, but tiring.

My father called and I was glad to hear his voice but I told him to stop with the freedom on my demands. I wanted to be treated like a person, not a precious stone.

He reminds me why I never bother arguing his ridiculous decisions by telling me I am his only daughter and as he can't be here to look after me, he has to make sure somebody is.

Only he doesn't seem to realise his replacement is seriously lacking.

"Dad, they don't even talk to me. I miss you and mom. Can't you come out for just a short stay?" I wonder.

"You know I have that meeting in LA with Whitney, honey," he reminds me in a sorry tone.

"And mom?"

"She's coming with me. I need my assistant." He replies and I nod with familiar disappointment.

"Okay."

"You'll be back home before you know it," he cheers.

"Yeah…" I swallow the painful tightness in my throat.

"Call soon, honey." He clicks off before I can even say goodbye and I throw my phone down sulkily, watching it bounce three times and land at a pair of shiny black brogues.

"Didn't get your own way?" Troy wonders as he picks up the small cell phone and holds it toward me.

I glare at him and turn back toward the recording room, feeling every emotion swirl inside me as I slam the door behind me and shove my earphones on, signalling Jack the sound man to start the next track.

_#Why didn't anyone ever tell me it would be so hard?_

_Why do I feel like my life is blowing away?_

_I feel like I'm surfing on the wind of time_

_And no-one can ever take this away_

_But you knew me_

_Oh you knew what I could be_

_Now won't you tell me?_

_Tell me we can be _

_Tell me we can be_

_Eternally_

_Who told me that I could play my life like a game?_

_How can I ever be free of what I am?_

_I don't need a hero to save me in the setting sun_

_But I need to feel the ray of hope that has begun_

_But you knew me_

_You always knew what I could be_

_Please can't you tell me?_

_Tell me we can be_

_Tell me we can be_

_Eternally_

_What does it mean without a wave upon the shore?_

_How can you scream without a voice that tells much more?_

_What do you see without the moon up in the sky?_

_How can I believe you'll always be there by my side?_

_But you loved me_

_You told me you would always be_

_Why did you tell me?_

_Tell me we would be_

_Tell me we would be_

_Eternally#_

The tears started sliding down my face in the second chorus and my voice became raw with emotion as I sang those words with every ounce of hurt and rejection I feel right there, in that moment.

Jack fades out the track, Antonio dashes in to comfort me and I look up into my manager's grey-blue eyes, wondering what he can possibly say to change this moment.

"Why are you crying? Your vocal was amazing!"

_And there it is ladies and gentlemen. The inarguable sensitivity of the male species. I would love to wrap it up in roses for you, but there is the plain truth, right there._

"Thank goodness for that," I smirk sarcastically, walking into the sound box and into Jack's arms.

He has a big, round body that comforts instantly and the second I saw him stand with his arms out, gesturing me out to embrace him; I knew I wasn't going to decline his much-needed support.

"Are you okay, Gabriella?" He checks, rubbing my back and I feel him shift so I look round, seeing Troy behind us with a funny look on his face.

"What happened?" He clips just the same.

"Nothing you need to know about," I sigh. "I'm going back to the hotel now."

"Gabriella…the track…" Antonio stutters from the studio doorway and I flick him a look, knowing I can't possibly give up recording time that has already been paid for.

"Okay I lied. I'm not going anywhere." I amend, heading back into the booth and Troy resituates from the viewing lounge outside the studio, to inside the sound box.

I see him making conversation with Jack, I see Jack flicking me looks each time before he replies and as I record the track over and over, different harmonies, extra notes, I pray that Jack doesn't tell him anything.

He really doesn't need to know. He really doesn't _want _to know, I smirk to myself.

Troy Bolton may think I am a spoilt brat but he has a lot to learn. _A whole lot._

/

Troy comes back at eight like I asked. I'm confused as hell with their shifts now. All I know is that when I sit down with my hand-delivered pizza, Troy looks really tired.

"Have some," I invite of my Hawaiian even though he has his own 'meat feast'.

"Swap?" He holds up a slice of his instead with his question.

I shrug. "Sure, okay."

The meat feast is revolting, let me tell you. I cannot fathom why boys _like_ this stuff, it's just beyond puke worthy but now that he gave it to me, I chew and swallow a bite without screwing my face up too much, so as not to hurt his feelings.

"You didn't like it," he notes as I place the unfinished slice back down, not quite discarding it as he speaks. I lift it up instead.

"Do you want the rest? I hardly touched it…"

"No, I have enough," he assures with a little smile that warms his ice-blue eyes.

"Growing men need their food…" I tease, hoping for the formal atmosphere to fade a little into the evening.

"I'm grown." He states as I choke on the cheese making its way down my throat. _Don't I know it._

"So you_ are_," I remark with a head tilt and he gives me a long look.

"You're funny." He says flatly, and you wouldn't know if he was being serious or not from his tone.

"Is that a compliment?" I wonder.

"Not entirely," he affirms and I nod in acceptance.

I feel his gaze on me and look up, finding him flicking his eyes over me.

"Are you okay, from earlier?"

"You mean you care?" I challenge.

"I'm sorry if I was rude about your call."

"Oh god, did he tell you to apologise for being rude to me, too?" I wonder of my father.

His silence is deafening and I close my eyes for a long blink while I take a breath. _Why do I even try to be friends here? Why am I even bothering?_

For one _second_, one _minute_ even, I would love to have someone _real _sitting here with me.

"I meant what I said," he repeats quietly.

"Fine. Forgiven." I lie and rid my pizza box, breaking our eye contact.

As I make my way back toward the bed, I hear the familiar tune of my cell ring tone, my heart pounding excitedly at the incoming call. I grab my phone and flip it open.

"Hello?"

Dial tone. Great. I frown confusedly and check the number. Witheld.

_This is going to be a long, lonely night._


	3. Sneaking Around

I was waiting for the 21 people who reviewed chap 1 to review chap 2, but I have so many stories to post I am updating quicker to get them all out there!

So here's 3…

**CHAPTER 3**

James has been with me all day. He came to gym, he watched me eat breakfast and now he is sitting flicking through magazines while I record, not caring less about my vocals or how I feel today.

I tell Antonio that I need a break. Or a rock song. Don't ask me to sing ballads today, I beg.

"Okay, get some air," he rubs my arm with concern. "Make a call home."

Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm still fuming as I find Taylor's number and dial it in, waiting for her to pick up.

"Hello you're through to Taylor McKessies phone- message me!" Her cute voice instructs.

"Hey Tay," I look up to the Texan sky and wish I was the condor I can see sailing above me. "So I guess I'm missing you guys. Lots. Call me?" I end the call and lick my lips, looking around.

There's a little nature trail that runs beside the dirt track road of the mile long drive down to the studio and it's been intriguing me for days. I decide to go and investigate, finding the peace and quiet addictive. It's so different here than my usual run of interviews, shoots and concerts.

I frown and turn back, wondering why James didn't follow me and then I forget about it, glad of the time alone. The sense of freedom. Right now I could go anywhere. Do anything. And no-one would know. No one would even miss me….

_Crack!_

The unmistakeable sound of a breaking twig stops me in my tracks and I freeze, only the pounding thud of my heart to be heard as I hold my breath and feel the painful restriction of oxygen ache in my ribs.

"Hello?" I call out, too afraid to turn. I hear nothing and breath out, relaxing my stance as I take another step forward, freezing as I hear faint footsteps again, nearby, but I can't tell where.

"Hello?" I call louder, wondering if there is a dog loose, or someone running?

I gasp in panic as a hand touches my shoulder and I swing round to socker a punch in their stomach, finding James leaning over and clutching his belly in feigned pain. I know it's feigned because my knuckles are indented with his solid body.

"Miss Montez." He says, only, as if this covers everything that needs to be said.

"I thought you were some creep!" I accuse. "Why are you sneaking around after me?"

He arches a brow as if he doesn't need to remind me he is there for my safety.

"Fine, whatever," I respond in agitation, still listening hard and looking around me, sure that the sounds I had heard weren't from him.

"Antonio is looking for you, Miss." He tells me and I nod, following him dutifully.

/

"Are you okay?"

Troy is doing his daily check of my room, looking in cupboards and drawers and even vases for audio recording equipment that might be used- if we were in a spy movie that is.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I wonder, not looking up from Cosmo as I lay on my front, reading, on the bed.

"James told me you heard someone following you earlier." He stops searching through my panty drawer and looks up to check this is true.

I falter my gaze and look away, back to my 'Good sex guide.'

"Yeah, him," I smart.

"He said you were frightened." He squints as he comes over, his dark grey suit a new one, and different from the black he usually wears.

"Did he also tell you I ate a packet of Oreos for lunch and that I forgot the words to my song?" I enquire sarcastically, with a wide eyed 'well?' flick of my chin up to him.

Troy blinks patiently, resting his gentle fingers on his slim hips, riding up his suit jacket to reveal the crotch of his pants to me.

"What did you hear out there?" He asks me.

I shrug, reaching for a doughnut and taking a bite. "Just twigs snapping."

"Gabriella." The way he says my name has me looking up from my magazine with my full attention and I sigh, flipping onto my back and sitting up, cross legged on the bed, my hair piled into a messy bun and wearing my smallest pink jersey shorts set, something Troy hasn't seen me wear before.

"Okay, what do you need to know?" I ask, flicking my eyes around as I drag back the memories I wanted to forget so I might actually get some sleep tonight.

"Tell me what you heard." He repeats.

The story is really not interesting the second time round. Sure, it gives me goose bumps at the part Troy needs to hear but I finish it with a relaxed shrug, keen to forget the incident and get back to normal.

But Troy's faraway look has me on edge. "What is it, Troy?" I ask.

He presses his lips together and drops his hands, running one through his spiked hair.

"Nothing."

_Right. And I'm the Queen of Sheba._

"Fine. Can I please finish reading the 'Good Sex Guide' now?" I check, making him blush. I smile in secret satisfaction.

"Don't let me stop you," he affirms, heading into the bathroom for more bug checks.

/

"Do you want to go to the beach?" Troy asks me seriously, the next morning at early breakfast.

"What?" I look up, bewildered.

"You said you wanted to just go to the beach for a day…" He reminded me of something I said yesterday.

"Not with you in that suit and sitting there not giving a crap." I sulk, thinking maybe my random outbursts have made him say this.

"How about if I change? I put on some surf shorts and some sunglasses and pretend I'm a beach whore?"

"You're still only doing it because my father is paying you to," I insist, concentrating on my eggs.

"I knock off at eight…"

"Right, like you'd want to spend your down time with me."

"I'm offering."

I stop eating and take a sigh, strangely touched by his statement knowing how formal and professional he likes to be. For him to offer to do such a thing is…unsettling. But the offer is there. And although I doubt his motives- and secretly worry about his sudden concern- I also feel a deep desire to take him up on it, just to see what it would be like.

"You'd really act normal?"

He blinks off my insult. "Scouts honour."

"And you'd blend in?"

"Absolutely."

"What about James?"

"We could give him the day off…"

"Then you'd be working."

"No, I'd be normal." He assures.

"Then who would watch me?"

"No-one."

"Like my dad would go for that." I deride.

"He doesn't need to know," he smiles slowly. "All he and James need to know is that I'm pulling another double shift because you asked."

"And you're not just doing this because I said so?" I check.

He shakes his head.

"I don't believe you."

"Does it matter if I am?" He asks honestly and I think about his question. He clearly thinks I just want my own way and to get to the beach no matter the means.

"Actually, it does." I stand and lay my crumpled napkin onto my plate, declining his invite. As if I could disappear for a whole day anyway. I have tracks to record.

/

"Ready?"

_Holy. Shitballs._

Troy is standing- no, leaning- outside my room door, dressed in 'civvies' that consist of starred surf shorts in black and white, Vans and a white vest that stretches across an impressive chest from the outlines of muscle I can make out underneath the material. Not to mention his arms. (_I find it best not to mention them and therefore I don't think about them. Well, okay I do. But the less I mention them the less chance there is of thinking about them. I think_.)

"Ready for what?"

"The beach, of course," he frowns quizzically.

"I have to record today," I remind him, even though he is so anal about my schedule that I don't believe for one second he has forgotten this fact.

"Not any more." He smiles wanly.

"What?"

"I pulled some strings," he explains mysteriously.

"With Antonio?" I'm impressed.

He nods, his dark lashes flicking up and revealing mischievous eyes and a smile to match.

"You coming or not?" He challenges.

"I have to get changed," I turn my palms out and throw them down, gesturing to my jeans and red tunic-dress.

"Fine, hurry up…"


	4. Playboy

DramaQueen17MrsZacharyEfron- I wanted to give you a fitting mention so I guessed using your 'Holy Shitballs' would be the perfect way!

Someone asked me to read their story, who was it?

& thank you for reviews! :D

Ang

**CHAPTER 4 **

And so it came to us heading for the beach. Me and Troy that is. I'm in my bikini, covered with denim hot pants and a white cross back print vest, baseball cap over my head, my curls hanging through the hole in a long ponytail. My lightly tainted skin – from my mother's ethnic side- is being warmed by the sun beaming through the driver's window and Troy actually looks how he promised to be- normal.

He's leaning one elbow on the open window frame, his arm bulging as he rubs his finger over his bottom lip and now I am a little affected by the muscles he has.

Maybe more than a little affected. Guys my age can be built, but this man next to me, he's full grown and powerful with bulk. It's distracting me from breathing. It's distracting me from everything.

"We're here!" I call excitedly, grabbing my beach bag full of towels and sun cream and Frisbee.

"Awesome. Beach babes here I come…" He drawls, making me chuckle.

"You only came for the girls?" I smile incredulously.

He shrugs. "In my line of work it's kinda hard to meet women."

"So you thought you'd use my beach escape for your dating needs?"

"Can't hurt right?"

I watch him in gaped wonder as he walks off, keeping his promise of playing human. He doesn't even check back on me to make sure I'm following, but I do, after a moment of reprise.

"Hey, beautiful…" A surf- dude decides he likes the look of me as I drop my bag and head for the waves, passing the tall, scrawny guy.

"Hi," I smile thinly and hide under the peak of my cap.

"You are insanely hot," he grins, making me blink in surprise.

"Erm…thanks."

"Wait…" He squints. "Aren't you…?"

"Aren't I what?" I ask innocently, knowing he has recognised me now.

"Gabriella Montez?" He checks and I blush awkwardly.

"No, I just look like her," I lie, wanting some peace today.

"Man I have the playboy spread on my wall from that shoot," he muses, making me stiffen in memory. Spread being the right word, although at seventeen, I was stupidly confident and desperate for success and I was the youngest Playboy feature girl. They promised me 'tasteful' they let me call the shots and although inside, I'm secretly proud of how good I looked naked; that shoot has caused me more hate and judgement than anything else I've done so far.

"Good for you." I offer, seeing a shadow fall across my new friend's shoulders.

"Is this guy bothering you?" Troy asks with predictable possessiveness, making me bite my lip from laughing.

"Not really," I smile sweetly as the surf guy walks off, looking back to make sure I'm not his Playboy bunny.

"You ok?" Troy checks, falling back into protective mode quickly and earning an eye roll from me.

"Apparently he has my Playboy shoot on his wall," I relay, sitting in the sand and looking out at the waves, covering my eyes with my sunnies and pressing my lips together.

"You did a Playboy shoot?" Troy looks at me quickly, shocked, and then sits beside me.

"Yeah, go ahead tell me what a stupid-ass thing that was to do. Tell me I'm too young to be sexual and bare my body to the world…" I sigh.

"I wasn't going to say any of those things." He states and I find myself frowning as I look around to him, momentarily surprised.

"You weren't?"

"Nope."

"You're about the only one."

"It's your life." He assures.

"I guess you haven't seen it," I smile in realisation and he turns and grins at me, his aviators hiding his blue eyes that I know are smiling.

"Am I allowed to?"

"It might be best you don't," I counter act.

"That just makes me want to see it more."

"But what if you change your mind about me?" I enquire, full of fear.

"Unlikely."

"Oh right," I nod, knowing what this is about. "You already made up your mind about me and nothing can alter that."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is when you think I'm a spoiled brat who whines because I'm lonely due to something of my own making."

"I don't think that," he argues quietly, his voice soft and sexy and I am wondering where these balls keep coming from in left field.

"Did you take something yesterday? Because you know, since you had that pizza something really weird has happened and an alien has taken over your body- or your mind, or maybe both."

"Actually there is something." He admits.

"Okay…"

"But I don't want to tell you because you'll hate me all over again," he hedges.

"You just did tell me." I argue.

"Because I want to be honest with you and tell you the truth."

"Fine, then do it."

"But let me finish, okay?" He requests and I nod easily while he gives me a disbelieving look.

"Your father called and spoke to me and James and asked us to…be friendly. To spend time with you and make you feel more comfortable."

"Oh, great!" I throw my hands up and stand quickly, peeling off my vest and dumping my shorts while I stride for the water.

"Gabriella! I'm not finished!" He calls after me but I don't care, I don't want to hear anything else he has to say.

I swim into the warm waves and drive my arms through the water, letting my salty tears mix with the sea until I can't hold back any longer and I let the painful sobs erupt from my chest where I hold them.

"Hey!" Troy is striking through the waves after me, catching me quickly. "I told you to let me finish…" He accuses but I'm crying now and I can't stop and after a minute, his arms cage around me in a loose embrace offering support both in the water and emotionally as I clutch my arms around his shoulders and lay my face there, needing body-to-body contact.

His hugs are gold. I feel his arms gently wrap around me, holding me there as the waves bounce us and bump us together and slowly, slowly I regain my composure enough to look him in the face.

"I'm sorry," I tell him honestly.

"The second part of what I had to say was that I was glad your dad had told us to get to know you. Which is why I told you he said that. I wanted you to know about it."

"So today…" I flick my eyes between the two of his. "Was your choice, not my father's?" I check if this is what he is trying to tell me.

"He just gave us permission for this to be okay," he assures.

"And you had this massive change of heart because my father told you it's okay?"

"Yes."

"And if he turns around tomorrow and tells you it's not okay anymore?" I question and I see the flicker of indecision in his eyes.

"Then I should follow his orders."

"Should?" I repeat, amusedly.

"He told us to do whatever you ask…"

"Unless that means ignoring his orders in which case what I want means nothing." I supply for him and he looks at me with sadness as I let go of his strong, attractive body.

"I'm trying my best." He says with a gritty voice.

"I know." I nod and head back for shore, not waiting to find out if he follows me.

/

It's hot. The sun is baking my skin and I flip, browning my already brown skin further, baring my back to the sun.

"Hey, would you like me to rub on sun lotion?" The voice is not Troy's. I silently curse at this but look up all the same to the blonde, curly haired guy smiling at me with a cute dimple.

"No, I'm okay," I sit up facing forward, brushing sand from my hands.

"You look just as amazing in real life as in the magazines," he tells me and I smile thankfully.

"That's very sweet of you to say."

"Do you want to play volley ball with us?" He gestures to the small game of beach volleyball down the sand and I squint, thinking it would be nice to join in but what if my wobbly bits get papped and shown in the ring of horror magazines?

What if I say something that gets quoted wrong?

What if they plain just don't like me?

"Oh, thank you for the invite but I'm saving myself for Frisbee with my play mate when he's back," I smile.

"He's down there with your Frisbee and another player," the blonde guy tells me, pointing to the quiet end of the beach where the rocks begin and I make out Troy playing Frisbee with an obedient dog who has mastered fetch quite well.

As I walk over I watch the collie fly through the air to catch the plastic plate in his teeth, landing with excited enthusiasm and bounding back to Troy with the disc, handing him the item to throw again.

"I see you met the love of your life," I tell him, shielding my eyes from the sun as I lay my bag down at the side and watch him having fun.

"I'm sorry, you were asleep. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Met another guy." I add conversationally, making him look up.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Because I'm famous?" I wonder in return.

"Yeah and that." He mutters but I don't make sense of it.

"So can anyone join this game?"

"I don't know. Sally might get jealous if there's a third player," he teases, something I never though he would be capable of.

I purse my lips. "I'll just leave you to it then…" I comment, looking around for another distraction.

"I'm kidding, Gabriella. Come join in," he motions me over.

"Okay but can you call me Gabi? You sound like my dad when you use my full name."

"Okay…Gabi." He tests the name and I like how he makes it sound. If only he wasn't my bodyguard. If only he wasn't twenty-something and too old to consider me as anything other than the bratty girl he has to watch.

I hold my hand out for the Frisbee and dash back and forth for it, passing it to Sally or Troy, the sun going down on our game as Sally is collected by her owner. I dress back into my shorts and vest, looking out on the sun dappled sea with a big sigh.

"I don't want this day to be over yet."

"How come you didn't choose volleyball with the others?" He asks knowingly and I turn to him, pressing my lips together.

"Because I always worry what might come of it." I admit honestly.

"In the press?"

"It's one thing you watching my ass bounce around this beach; it's quite another being subject to cellulite inspection by strangers."

"From the girl who stripped all for Playboy…"

I tip my head and give him a long look. "Yeah I did. And I don't regret it. But that doesn't mean I don't have hang ups."

"You don't have any flaws to be hung up about!" He scoffs.

"People talk about my thighs because they're big because of the dancing I do on stage…and I know my behind is curvier that I'd like."

"You're seeing yourself through other people's eyes, Gabi," he accuses softly. "Through my eyes, I see nothing wrong."

"Well you would say that. You're paid to," I climb up the beach, shaking my hair out and searching for a hotdog stand, ready to eat and wind down in the magnificent sunset.

"My treat," Troy hands the burger stall vendor a twenty dollar bill as I accept my huge, loaded beef burger with a lick of my lips. He orders the same and we sit and just eat, side by side.

"Would you be friends with me in real life?" I wonder, picking off a piece of my bun.

"This isn't real life?" He wonders in return.

"You know what I mean…"

"I don't know. A twenty six year old guy befriending an eighteen year old girl might be considered strange behaviour by some…"

"You're twenty six?" My eyes fly to him and I'm sure my distraught face is evident to read.

"Yup."

"You look younger," I accuse.

"Why, thank you."

"Don't get sassy," I plead, not knowing how to take this news. There is absolutely no way he is ever going to look at me as anything other than a little girl, it seems obvious to me now. And I was just beginning to like him, too.

"You must have a hundred friends your own age, out partying, living the high life…"

"Yeah, hundreds," I repeat drily.

"Well look, you wouldn't want to hang around with a guy who hardly spends a day at home would you?" He points out.

It's depressing news. All of it. I love my friends, I love my family but I'm missing that person who can make me laugh, make me feel loved and who can kiss me and touch me in the ways I long to be.

And for some insane reason, I don't even know why, I had thought maybe Troy could be that person. I had thought maybe, just maybe he would want that with me too. Only he doesn't. Because all he can see is my age. All he can see is a job, a task, a thing to protect and keep alive.

There will never be anything more.

I curl up my feet and wrap my arms around his, leaning into his strong arm for comfort as I realise I have to make a change.

I don't know what yet; I don't know how, but I can't keep on like I am. I can't keep living in this loneliness.


	5. Freckles

**CHAPTER 5**

"Oh I get my arm back then," he teases as I finally stand to drive back to the hotel.

"It's a nice arm." I offer distractedly.

"Thank you," he frowns, looking at it, wondering why.

"So when we go back, James starts at eight am and we're good?" He asks me.

"I'm going to ask my dad to let you guys go," I tell him sadly, driving in autopilot.

"Why?" He asks, shocked.

"Because it's stupid me having bodyguards when I clearly don't need them. I just need some friends."

"What if you do need them?" He asks huskily, making me panic. I wait until I'm back at the hotel before I ask:

"Is there something you know that I don't?"

He sighs, testing my trust by looking into my eyes. I don't look away.

He licks his lips and bites into the upper one, fighting with himself until he sighs again and opens his mouth.

"There's a reason we're upping our profile," he admits finally.

"Oh my god," I hit the steering wheel lightly then climb out, not even surprised at this news as he follows me, marching like old times.

"Gabi…"

"I knew it! I knew there was something going on! My father does not ask strange men to befriend me for no reason! So what is it?" I demand. "What is it Troy that makes you want to follow me everywhere and never let me out of sight?"

The parking lot is not the best place to discuss this and he tells me as much, gently persuading me back into my room where he stands, formal and regretful all in one, his eyes squinted and assessing.

"We had a threat, okay? Your father begged us not to tell you-"

"I told you not to protect me!" I interrupt only he looks at me to silence me.

"I'm not, am I?" He points out and I concede he's right.

"Ok, and?"

"And it came the night the girls were outside" He confirms. "Your dad wanted one of us to be with you all the time, twenty-four seven even if it was in a 'relaxed' capacity and James said we got on better than you and him."

"Got that right," I remark.

"So what I said earlier still stands. I wanted to spend time with you and get to know you." He insists.

"Even though you're secretly waiting for any lunatic to shoot my ass," I mutter, this news piercing my heart.

"Gabi, no-one will shoot you on my watch." He assures.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I whisper, suddenly realising the seriousness of the situation.

"Nothing."

"Oh my gosh, is it the women's rights group? They hated me for doing Playboy."

"They wouldn't shoot you." He soothes.

"They might."

"Look, we don't know anyone wants to shoot you and you can see why your father wanted this to be kept secret because now you're going to be watching over your shoulder and worrying all day long about something that might never happen…"

"Ok, I'll get a grip, I promise," I tell him, still flitting my gaze around, thinking who else could hate me enough to hurt me.

"Gabi," he steps forward and cups my shoulders, bringing my confused gaze to his. "You're safe, okay?"

I blink with a nod and beg myself not to cry again. Surely he can't cope with me crying again, it's all I seem to do lately.

My shower is long, hot and soothing and I come out in pyjamas and lay on my bed, surprised to see Troy still there.

"You should go now." I tell him.

"I'll stay if you want me to."

"I just want to be alone."

"Gabi…"

"I want to be alone, Troy." I repeat.

He hovers for a minute and then turns toward the door, opening it with a sigh before passing through and closing it behind him, leaving me in total silence.

Now why is my heart screaming at me for doing that? Why does my body feel like it misses his in the same room even though we've never touched?

I think I'm falling in love with my bodyguard and I don't think I can stop myself.

/

Early breakfast with Troy is quiet and awkward. I hate _awkward._ Not the kind of awkward you get with strangers where you know you're gonna feel weird because they don't know you and your quirks and all the things you do without thinking.

I'm talking about the kind of awkward you get with someone who you know. Someone you know and kind of got on with and who now doesn't want to talk to you- or doesn't know how to talk to you because sometimes you're a moron and it puts them off making conversation with you again.

That's Troy right now. That awful kind of awkward I hate.

"How was gym?" I ask formally, the pain of the silence forcing me into speaking.

"Fine," he eats his oatmeal like it's his favourite food.

I nod, twisting my lips, running my eyes over his freckled nose. "You have freckles on your nose."

He looks up, his sky-eyes pinning mine. "I know."

"It's quite attractive…" I offer, vocalising my thoughts, the sweaty nervousness making me speak out of my usual comfort zone.

"Uh, thank you, I guess?" He squints at me.

"We really wouldn't be friends, would we?" I realise with sudden clanging clarity. He doesn't want to be here any more than I want to be followed 24/7.

"Actually, I think we might." He offers me a slither of hope.

"Why did you decide that?" I wonder.

"We both love the beach. And burgers." He suggests randomly and I actually find myself smiling at him, inanely. _He did it! He really did it! He said something random._

"This much is true," I agree and he catches my smile and tentatively hands one back.

"And anyone who can sleep through my snoring is a friend of mine," he adds with a knowing twinkle, making me look down to my food.

"I wouldn't call it snoring…" The soft, almost adorable snorts of Troy's sleep were something I got used to hearing when he slept in the chair in my room.

He purses his lips and gives me a look. "It's snoring."

"Well its cute snoring," I amend like any girl would.

"Just kick me if it ever happens again," he instructs.

"Oh, I will," I smile but I know secretly that I won't.

"Ready Nightingale?" He asks me, using a ridiculous code name.

"When you call me that, I feel about this big-" I hold up my thumb and finger an inch apart. "-please try and find another nickname."

"Songbird?"

He is surely joking because if he is serious, I might _actually _strangle him. In this room full of people, too. I decide to take the high ground and walk away from breakfast with my head held high. An action I am taking increasingly often.

/

"Gabriella!" The middle aged man pushes his way to the front of the crowd and Troy holds a strong hand to his chest to restrain him from reaching me, his whole body tensing in defence.

"Sir, don't take another step," he tells the man and I press my lips in, recognising him from the concert where he tried to hug me.

"Jim," I smile at him and look up to Troy, indicating he can let the man closer for a photo and autograph, both of which I comply with.

"You look amazing today," Jim tells me and I blush under his compliment. I chose an ethnic print tunic and leggings with my shoe-boots.

"Thank you," I smile and move to the next fan, drawn back as Jim reaches out and fingers my hair, which I tense at, pressing my hair down protectively to remove it from his hand.

"Sir," Troy says again, standing between us.

"Do you know how lucky you are?" Jim asks Troy and I feel the mood go from friendly to bewildered in seconds.

"Sir, please just step back." Troy repeats as he blocks me from the man's reach.

"You get to be with her every day…"

I turn and squint at him, wondering if this is the reason Troy told me they were steeping up security.

"Gabi, go to the car." He twists his head to tell me and I frown.

"James is waiting." He confirms and I nod, looking back on him as I slide into the leather seat.

"Is he a problem?" I ask James as I buckle up.

"Troy or the fan?" James asks back jokingly, pulling out without answering my question.

_Great._

/

Lunch with James is nowhere near as much fun as it is with Troy. I counted he had said exactly eight words to me this morning and I cannot believe my father has told him to be friendly as well as Troy, because he is seriously failing his quota.

I still have several hours to go until I'm back on Troy's watch and I wander away from the café James and I chose for lunch- well I chose for lunch- to investigate the intricacies of the old town we are inhabiting.

I look behind me, waiting for James to catch up only he isn't there. I frown, swirling around to look for his black suit and tie and find no-one fitting his description. Hm, that's weird…

"Hey, you have the most beautiful eyes," a street vendor touches my arm to bring me around.

"Thank you." I smile.

"You have a beautiful ass too, I saw you in Playboy," he smiles back.

I nod. "Thank you."

"Are you okay? You look a bit lost…"

"I'm just not sure where to go," I lie, removing my previous thoughts.

"Miss Montez." James' deep voice makes me jump.

"Where were you?" I ask as I turn to him briefly.

"In the restroom."

I squint and frown, but go back to the stranger in our midst. "It was lovely to meet you."

"Take care now!" The man waves us off and I flick annoyed glances back at James as we make our way back to studio for the afternoon session.

"Can you tell me next time you plan on taking a break?" I ask him with my hands jammed on my hips as we wait outside the studio.

"You're safe with me, Miss Montez." He assures.

"I'd still like to know. Just in case."

He nods once and for some reason, I don't trust his agreement. But it doesn't matter because I have to sing now.

And everything else has to wait.

/

"Don't tell me you heard about James' pee break?"

Troy's face is creased with concern as he comes into the room, looking at me applying make-up as I sit on the edge of my bed.

"Are you going out?"

"For a drink," I confirm.

"Who with?"

"Jack." I look up, waiting for his response.

"The guy you were hugging." Troy recognises.

"The same one." I nod.

"Is it a date?" He enquires.

"Do you need to know?" I ask back as quickly.

"We were told not to attend dates." He explains, answering my question with a 'yes'.

I consider my answer. If I say yes, he'll think I'm dating and it might ruin any slim- if zero- chance I have with Troy. If I say no, I have another attended night out. For once the attraction of a security-free night is calling me.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is," I nod assuringly.

"Then I'll wait outside," he supplies.

I look down into my lap, wondering how it will feel not having him there at my side, like usual.

"Okay." I agree, finishing my mascara and liner and jumping up, ready to go. "How do I look?"

His eyes flick down my outfit- A baby doll floaty top and jeans with silver sky-high heels. I look back at him and silently wonder how tall he is. Even in my heels he has a two inch head start.

"You look great." He replies in his monotone voice, something I am becoming used to hearing. I flick my eyes down sadly, somehow hoping for more and disappointed I didn't get it.

"Let's go then, action man," I fix on my smile, exiting my room for the night.


	6. Mr Overprotective

Thank you thank you thank you!

Some of you have said you're new readers, some have said your hooked already, some say you love it like you love all my other stuff and I love hearing that some of you have been with me all along :') It gives me hope.

Smartgirl, thank you for commenting that the characters are not conventional because I really go to the effort to make my stories 'a bit different' and it really means a lot when someone notices.

I really am sorry I can't thank you all personally but most of you know what your comments mean to me by now ;) (Everything)

Happy Easter! :D

**CHAPTER 6**

"You do realise that drinking alcohol is not permitted in Texas state until you're 21?" Troy tells me as he drops me off and parks up for his night watch.

"Oh, Troy," I roll my eyes and wonder where he gets off sounding like my dad.

"I'm just saying…"

"I know what you're saying." I smile and slide out, meeting Jack at the entrance of the Cavern he has chosen for our non-date.

"No Mr. Overprotective?" Jack asks me as he flicks his eyes toward the car where Troy is seated, looking out and around for trouble.

"He's staying there tonight." I supply happily, going ahead of him into the small cosy beer bar, finding several gazes swinging to me as I head for the bar.

"Hey, Jack. Pretty girl you have there." One guy lifts up his beer to silently toast my sound man and I turn and flick him an amused look.

"Funny how everyone assumes we're on a date." I muse.

"I think I'm old enough to be your father," he smiles back.

"Well someone needs to be. It's not like my dad is doing the job," I deride, climbing onto a bar stool.

"Is that why you were upset the other day?" He wonders, ordering our drinks- mine's an orange juice much to my chagrin.

"Yeah. And having someone following me all the time isn't always much fun." I add meekly.

"He seems pretty good at his job though," Jack tells me of Troy. "He looked pretty peeved when you hugged me the other day."

"Only because he was an asshole to me before that." I explain.

"Ah," he nods. "So he wasn't really jealous?" He smiles at me teasingly.

"Jealous?" I turn to Jack and actually laugh at his suggestion. "That man wouldn't know jealous if it came and bit him on the ass…"

"Really?" Jack lifts a heavy brow and flicks his gaze up over my head, his mouth twitching with a smile and I twist to look over my shoulder, seeing Troy heading across the tavern floor, his full suit creating interest as to his motive for being there.

"Gabi, I need to speak to you," Troy tells me with a serious face and I look to Jack with a bemused smile.

"Okay."

"Alone." He adds.

"Can this wait? I'm kind of busy?" I wonder at his interruption and I see him flick a look to Jack and then back to me, silently assessing like always.

I secretly wish I could see the jealousy that Jack hinted at, but there is nothing but professionalism in his cool gaze. He blinks twice, his long lashes contrasting against every powerful muscle in his tense body.

"Not really." He admits regretfully.

"Fine, okay," I lay my glass down and look to Jack. "I'm sorry about this. I'll be right back."

"You won't be going back," Troy's hand flattens on my back as he guides me out and I flick a look up to him in confusion, quickly sprung back into reality as a cold liquid hits my face, the perpetrator standing before me with their empty glass of drink.

"We don't want you here, little miss tramp," the woman on the throwing end of the liquid tells me but before I can even think about retaliating, Troy is in front of me and pinning the woman to the wall, telling me to 'get out' while he controls the crowd.

I do as he says and wait outside, shivering with shock at what just happened. My top is soaked with beer and the smell is turning my stomach as I imagine how many more people feel the same way as the lady back there- I wonder how many more people hate me enough to cover me in drink.

"Let's move," Troy propels me toward the car once more and quickly ducks my head as I slide into my seat, wrapping my arms around my sticky body. He stands at the passenger door and slides off his jacket, carefully arranging it around my shoulders to keep me warm before he strides around the front of the car in his shirt and trousers.

Once he is back inside, engine idling, I ask: "How did you know?"

"I heard them talking about you as they walked by. They knew you would be in there…" He supplies as he pulls away and I curl into his jacket a little more, the smell of him still warm on it and his cologne sending my skin tingling.

"Great. Don't tell me, I can't trust Jack either?" I wonder.

"Right now I don't know who we can trust and who we can't." He admits, taking the streets with easy confidence, finally arriving at the hotel once more.

He comes around the car to open my door, offering a hand which I ignore as I climb out, still in shock, still staring around me like I have no idea where I am or what my name is.

"Lets get inside," he decides practically, putting his arm around me and cupping his hand on my arm as he protects me, every cell in my body buzzing with the awareness of his proximity. I look up, licking my lips, seeing his set jaw, the muscles working there as he clenches his teeth. I see his long-short hair tidy behind his ear. I see the arch of his thick brow and the flick of his lashes and I can even make out the flat line of his lips as he swishes into the elevator and finally looks down.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fed up of hiding." I reply sadly.

"People will get over it," he says of my past.

"Really?" I muse. "I think that this is an indication of things to come…"

My cell phone rings musically in my bag and I pull it out, excited to see who is calling.

"Tay?" I breathe into the phone.

"Hey, girl!" Her familiar voice calls back as Troy watches me with his usual frown of concern.

"How are you? I miss you!"

"I know, we miss you too!" I hear the smile in her voice. "But who is that hunk you were frolicking with on the beach?" she asks.

"Hunk?" I question confusedly.

"Yeah some big, strong, dark-haired guy…" she describes.

"You mean Troy?" I ask with a splutter, wondering how she knows about that.

"Who's Troy? Oh who cares, he is a hottie!"

"Tay, Troy's my bodyguard…" I supply, blushing as he looks at me and realises the hunk I was talking about is in actual fact, him. And this he seems to find amusing because he is smiling inanely as he opens my hotel room door and checks inside before letting me into the space that makes my home from home.

"Well set us up would you?" Tay asks. "That body has to be worth the wait…"

"Troy?" I call him as he is checking outside through the closed curtains and I hear Tay screaming in my ear in protest. "My friend Taylor wondered if you would like to go out with her sometime?"

My heart actually stops in my chest as I ask this and I wait for him to reply.

"I have another woman in my life right now." He answers and I stare at him in shock, wondering what he means.

Does he mean me? Surely not. He always said I was a girl. Or a brat. He'd never call me a woman. But he told me he was single. Had that changed? Had he met someone on the beach I know nothing about?

"He's seeing someone," I tell my friend, snapping out of my stupor even though I can't pull my eyes away from his.

"Oh, bummer," Tay sighs. "Never mind, tell me about you…"

It's a long conversation. It goes on most of the night and Troy has seated himself in the arm chair with a book. He slipped off his tie and unbuttoned his collar a while back and now he is frowning with cute concentration, his eyes flicking over the words with quick ease.

"Good book?" I enquire nosily, waiting for him to look up.

He marks his page and lays the paperback in his lap. "Yeah. It's a crime thriller."

"So how come you didn't want to date Taylor?" I ask him as I lay my phone down and stand, ready to shower off the beer now that Taylor has been given the lowdown on my life. "I thought you were looking?"

"I really can't commit myself when I'm here twenty four hours a day," he reminds me and I nod.

"I'm going to shower off this sticky mess," I tell him, heading for the bathroom, coming out sometime later starving hungry and dressed into a nightdress-t-shirt, still wrapped in Troy's jacket.

"You keeping that?" He points to the jacket with an amused smile.

I blink sheepishly and press my lips in. "It's warm." I tell him.

He nods and rubs a finger over his full lower lip, attracting my gaze there.

"Are you settled now? I'll stand outside…" He offers, shifting in his chair.

"Will you stay?" I ask.

He meets my gaze as he stands and stretches his aching body. "If that's what you want."

"I know you're only outside anyway but so much has happened lately, I just feel better knowing you're here while I sleep."

He nods. "Okay."

I lay down on the bed and lift my head, watching Troy settle in his softer track bottoms and t-shirt, silently thanking him for staying with me tonight. I feel like a night without him is too scary right now and his bulky form sitting there is a familiar comfort I am getting way too used to.

"Do you really think people will accept me one day?" I ask into the semi-lit room, my lamp still shining.

"Yeah, I do," he assures.

"It doesn't feel that way."

"People are jealous, Gabi. You do know that's why they're doing it?" He asks.

I sit up against the pillows and look over to him. "Come and sit with me?" I beg while we're talking.

He rises from his chair and glides over, all graceful like a panther ready to pounce. His weight sinks down the mattress as he tips his head back and catches his arms around his knees.

He looks over. "Bullies only pick on those they are jealous of," he repeats quietly.

"That girl doesn't even know me," I puzzle. "Why would she hate me so much?"

"You said yourself you didn't win any fans doing Playboy…" he broaches gently.

"Yeah, who knew that would be such a big deal?"

"From what I know about women- which I admit is not much- they all like to be desired. Being in that magazine means you have every guy out there talking about you. Some girls just don't know how to handle that." He shrugs.

"Would you date a girl who'd been in Playboy?" I ask fretfully, wondering if this is why I haven't met the right guy yet. It's all guys seem to know about me.

"I don't see why not."

"Even though you know your girl has been seen naked by other guys?"

"I guess I'd be proud of her. I guess I'd feel like a lucky guy." He imagines.

"What if someone really wants to hurt me, Troy?" I look over to him and he gives me a long look before he shifts over and presses his arm to mine.

"They won't get to you." He promises.

"I believe that from you but when James wanders off, I feel like anything could happen."

"He won't wander off again." Troy assures.

"Mm. I wish I could have you all the time," I admit.

"Well that surprises me," he smiles softly, teasing me.

"I mean it. I know you're boring and serious and sometimes really, really annoying. But I feel safe with you. I trust you." I add shyly.

"I'm boring?" He questions, his thick brows shooting up toward his combed down hair, now ruffled from his day's work.

"Well, maybe not boring exactly…"

"I played Frisbee on the beach," he counters in his defence.

"Sometimes, just sometimes It would be nice if you could you know…_relax _a little." I hedge.

"Relax?" He repeats ruefully. "I'm too busy keeping you safe."

I'm glad he didn't say 'alive' right then. That might have freaked me out.

"So who do I go to when I need a hug?" I ask him, just like that night I was craving arms around me. Any arms. _Especially his strong arms_, I add secretly.

He leans forward, lifting his arm to curl it behind me, cupping my shoulder with his hand. "How's this?" he asks in a husk.

I blink away my touched tears and curl into him a little, grasping his soft top in my fisted hand. "It's good." I assure.

He nods and rubs his hand up and down my arm a little, his thumb starting a little comforting brush as I cling to him and let my guard down; maybe for the very first time since we met. Apart from when he grabbed me in the sea, but that doesn't count because I was crying and not in full control of my senses unlike now, when every thrum of his heart beat and every waft of his scent fills me with excitement.

"Really good…" I echo my earlier words as I become sleepy against his hard form beside me, closing my eyes as I feel his bulk protecting me from anything that might hurt me.

Protecting me against everything I fear.


	7. Nineteen

TY, as always :)

**CHAPTER 7**

I don't know why, but I had pictured this moment being much more romantic. Before I open my eyes, I imagine waking up with Troy, all comfy and cared for in his arms, able to enjoy his hard body for a little longer.

Only I should know that real life doesn't work like that. In real life, sexy bodyguards do not hold you all night and wake up with you in their arms. Of course not. They get up early, dress back into their smart, sharp suit and sit and wait while you dribble in your sleep and create all kinds of shapes through the night.

I wake up on my front, legs spread-eagled, shorts riding up my backside, in perfect view from Troy's seat in the arm chair, where he always sits.

So he went back to being my bodyguard and stopped being my friend. Why do I feel so disappointed? In the heat of the moment, would I rather he save my life or be distracted into kissing me for fear of never having that moment?

I groan as I realise my life means nothing compared to my need to kiss the man in the chair. What is with that?

"Are you awake?" He asks.

"Unfortunately," I sigh.

"Hey, it's a new day. Look on the bright side."

"The bright side being…"

"Last night is over." He supplies.

Why is that not such a positive thing for me, I wonder? I should be at least a little happy that today starts over with a fresh chance to be liked. Only last night also included being in Troy's arms. The bad part of the day is gladly forgotten. Troy's cuddle, not so much.

"That's great," I say flatly in response to his comment of the previous night being over.

"I thought you'd be happy?"

I roll over with forced energy. "Yeah, so did I."

"You'll feel better once you're up."

I throw my arm over my eyes. "Oh god."

"Problem?" He wonders.

"It's my birthday. I don't think I can cope today."

"It's your birthday?" Troy looks up sharply, shocked.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because," I shrug. "Nobody here really gives a crap anyway."

"I do." He argues in a soft tone and I meet his gaze, standing from the bed and pulling the shorts from my ass.

"Right," I nod disbelievingly.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?" He asks, standing too, his height dwarfing me a little but I push my shoulders back to regain some control.

"Nothing. I'm going to go and sing, then I'm going to go shopping in Lake City and then I'm going to eat pizza in my room." I detail, heading for the shower and shutting him out. I make sure it's gone 8am by the time I come out, dressed and ready and my room is empty of men.

Strangely, I'm disappointed he left but I put it from my mind and grab my bag, swinging my door back ready to face the world.

'Happy Birthday, Miss." James tells me as he turns from standing beside my door.

"Where's Troy?" I flick my eyes down the corridor suspiciously.

"In the gym I believe…"

_In the gym? He went to the gym? After telling me he gives a crap and offering to do anything I wanted on my birthday, he decides to go to the gym? That's just great…_

I stomp down to breakfast, interrupted three times by calls from my parents, Tay and Sharpay respectively, all wishing me many happy returns. I finally get to eat the chocolate croissant I have selected when my phone stops buzzing and I feel my disappointment kick in as I realise this is it.

This is the total of my birthday celebrations and now I have to go to work, too.

The studio is at least decorated. Jack asks me where I went to last night and hands me a small gift parcel – a pair of angel earrings which I love- and then Antonio soon sweeps me into work mode, wringing vocals out of me I didn't know I had.

We finish at seven and James takes me back to the hotel, dropping me off at my room with a mysterious smile.

"What's that smile for?" I wonder.

"You should get ready and put something nice on." Is all he tells me as he winks and I open and close my mouth.

Right. Whatever.

Is Troy taking me out, I wonder? Or someone else? Why the mystery? Why not just arrange a party and tell me, why all the hush-hush code?

I'm slicking on red lipstick to match the red satin dress I'm wearing when the door knocks and I open it, waiting for Troy to speak.

He's wearing a tuxedo of all things. Black and White, penguin suit style. His hair is spiked with gel and he actually looks…gorgeous. Like a real-life man who has thoughts and feelings and a lot less like the cool, calculating body guard I'm used to.

"Your father wanted you to have a nice dinner," he offers as way of explanation, finally speaking.

"Did he now?" I arch back.

"Is that so bad?" Troy wonders.

I shrug. "I'd rather my parents were here to take me out, rather than paying someone to do their job for them."

"It was kind of my idea…" He shares shyly and I frown at him, confused.

"It was?"

"You looked so depressed this morning and I thought you'd like to go out." He admits.

"Did I really look that bad?" I worry.

"You looked pretty upset."

"Well, this is a nice surprise," I hedge with a small smile.

"I booked dinner for eight thirty. We should go."

"Well I suppose it might be fun," I deride, latching onto his proffered elbow and stepping out of my room.

"You really sound pumped about this…" He smiles across at me.

"Are you fed up of me moaning?" I wonder. "I should try not to do that so much."

"At least not tonight," he agrees. "Unless you really don't want to do this in which case…"

"No, I do." I assure. "I'm just having a hard time right now."

"I know."

His two words are short and lacking the comfort I crave.

"But tonight is about celebrating!" I decide quickly, throwing off my miserable thoughts.

"Absolutely," he agrees, leading me outside to where there is a limo waiting.

"Troy…" I look up to him in wonder.

"You only turn nineteen once, right?" He smiles.

I climb inside, accepting the champagne Troy pours and I watch the world flit by in shaded glory, the dark windows hiding us from the world.

"I can be anyone I want to be in here." I smile.

"You can be anyone you want to be out there, too," Troy comments, checking around him with his usual awareness.

"Apparently not."

"Do you like Italian?" He asks as we pull up at a restaurant in Lake City, the very place I had planned to shop if it hadn't been for finishing late in the studio.

"You know I do," I smile, accepting his hand as he helps me out.

"Then I picked the right place," he guesses with his own smile.

"This is really kind of you, Troy." I state, walking into the glass-heavy restaurant with him.

There is a table booked, there are balloons and streamers and most of all, there is a pile of wrapped boxes waiting for me to open them.

"Your father couldn't be here but he sent you these gifts," Troy explains as he seats me like a perfect gentleman would.

"How lovely." I smile tightly and open them one by one under Troy's watchful gaze, revealing several presents- shoes, jewellery and an elaborate gift token for my favourite shop.

"You did well," he smiles teasingly at me and I meet his eyes.

"It doesn't replace them not being here."

He blinks. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be, it's not you who's letting me down."

"I still feel bad for you," he comments, handing me a menu.

I order the lasagne. It's my favourite food and when I'm home, mom makes the best pasta ever. It's not much longer now until I'm back there, with my friends and the people I love. Just one more week and then I can kick back until my tour starts.

The thought brings a smile to my face.

"I've never seen anyone so excited about lasagne before," Troy jokes and I roll my eyes as our food is delivered.

"Do you want to try some?" I hold out my fork full of the stuff.

He gives me a look and then can't say no without appearing silly. "Thank you." He takes the bite and nods approvingly. "Nice."

I lift my brows expectantly of his steak. "Do you want to try mine?" He says dutifully.

"Why thank you," I smart, my eyes twinkling with my amusement as I chew and taste the food.

"Oh young man," A silver haired lady presses her hand into Troy's arm and he looks up expectantly. "Are you proposing tonight?"

Troy widens his eyes in bewilderment and flicks me a look. "Erm…"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't want to ruin any surprise. I just wanted to say how very perfect you both look together and how romantic it is to bring your beautiful girlfriend here."

"Ah…thank you," he blushes and I think he looks adorable in his awkwardness.

"You're a very lucky lady," the woman tells me.

"I know. He's just amazing," I smile in return at her kindness.

"Have a lovely evening," the woman tells us before she leaves the restaurant, leaving us both blushing and uneasy.

"If I ask you to marry me now, would it ruin the surprise?" He asks drily and I can't help but giggle at the scenario.

"It can't hurt to try…" I smile back.

"I think the moment passed."

"She's the first person to call me a lady," I muse. "Normally people just refer to me as a girl."

"You're nineteen now. You're officially a woman." He offers.

"I think I was officially a woman when I-" I'm cut off by the waiter clearing our plates away and offering desserts.

I order cheesecake but what is actually delivered is a huge sponge birthday cake, iced heavily and with nineteen candles to blow out, along with a chorus of 'Happy Birthday' supplied by the staff- and Troy.

_Yes I know, I didn't think he could sing either, but he can. And it's very unsettling._

"Wow, are there any more surprises I should know about?" I squint suspiciously.

Troy licks his lips. "I was going to ask you for a dance…"

I smile slowly at his gesture. "I think I can cope with that."

And he actually asks me, properly if I will dance with him (_as if I could say no_) and you know what? He's a good dancer, too. It's surprising really, how little you can know about someone you spend your entire day- or night- with.

"Wow, you're good," I tell him appreciatively as he waltzes me around. I can feel him assessing the room over my shoulder and I pull back to tip his chin toward me, to meet my eyes. "Troy, relax."

"There's press outside." He tells me.

"You should know they photographed us in the sea," I supply.

"I do know." He replies. "But they could get a bit crazy when we go out there."

"It's okay. I can handle it."

He squints at me, and then his face softens. "Sorry."

"You know what? Its kind of reassuring that you're always on the look out."

"It's what makes me good at my job." He affirms.

"I just wish you could…you know…let your hair down and go wild now and then."

"This isn't wild?" He spins me on the dance floor. "I'm getting old…"

"You know what I mean…"

"Again, I'm in a tough position here. I can't afford to be personally involved."

"No," I flick my eyes to his chest, the one that is warm and hard and pressing against my breasts, making them itch with wanting his touch. "I guess you can't."

"Are you asking me if I want to be?" He wonders, his words so surprising that I find my breath hitching in my chest, our closeness confusing me more.

"No of course not," I swallow.

"Because what you said before, about us being friends? I think we could have been, you know."

"Really?" I smile sadly. "I don't think we would have. I don't think we would have been anything if you really think I'm just-"

"I should never have said you were a spoiled brat." He intercedes quickly.

"Tell me something, honestly?" I press closer and look up into his face, pretending for one moment this is so much more than it actually is.

"Okay," he concedes.

"When you look at me, what do you see?"

"Gabriella Montez, singing sensation," he answers quickly.

"No," I shake my head. "That's not what I mean. I mean, _what _do you see?" I ask again, begging for affirmation.

He lazily flicks his eyes over my face and for one second, just one fleeting, unique second that flashes and dies just as quickly, he smiles affectionately as he answers.

"A beautiful woman."

"Really?" I challenge, not taken by his true answer even though my pulse is beating in between my thighs. "Not just a girl?"

"I don't see a girl at all." He assures and this time, I let the pleasure of his reply wash over me, setting me shivering with tingling delight. Goosebumps cover my skin as I take a quick breath in, in shock.

"I-"

"Get down!" He quickly pushes my body down, not roughly but with quick force as the front window of the restaurant shatters and I feel his heavy body land on mine as he covers me to protect me from the falling glass.

Just as quickly, he jumps up, assessing the danger and sourcing the brick that caused the smash, knowing there is no further immediate threat as he reaches down to scoop me up, his strong arms carrying me out into the lot where mayhem reigns.

"Which way did they go?" Troy asks the parking attendant, quickly laying me into the limo seat and hovering outside.

"That way," the valet points north. "But they're gone, dude."

Troy goes up to the limo driver and speaks with him while I sit and try to get my breath, the last moments frightening me into a panic attack.

"Take her back to the hotel. I'll make sure someone is there to meet her," he tells the driver and as he heads back toward me, I beseech him with my eyes.

"Ken's taking you back to get you out of this circus," he gestures to the photographers behind, grappling for a picture, restrained by the valets and staff who are trying to clear the area for the police.

"Please don't leave me!" I am shaking so hard I can barely speak.

"I have to. I have to see who did this." He tilts his head, his face creasing with concern.

"I can't be alone right now," I sob, hiccupping painfully as the shock and the fear set in.

"Ken will take care of you." He assures.

"I want you, Troy." I tell him, leaning over into my own lap and covering my eyes with my hands. He kneels beside me and rubs my back.

"Okay…" I hear his sigh. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Instead I hear him talk into his cell, giving instructions to someone on the other end and then he climbs into the back seat with me, checking over me with his gaze.

"I promised you I wouldn't let you get hurt." He tells me confidently.

"I don't know what to do anymore!" I wail.

"It's ok, Gabi," He rubs my back a little.

"No it's not! Someone wants to hurt me!" I look into his blue eyes and I see him flinch. "Wait…did you know about this?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly? What does that mean? You did or you didn't?" I demand.

"There was a threat. That something might happen. But not here, not like this." He puzzles.

"There was a threat?" This news breaks my heart and I feel my blood pounding around my veins with increasing fear. "From who?"

"I don't know."

"Then what do you know?" I scream hysterically. "You knew when to tell me to duck!"

"I saw a movement outside, okay?" He asks me, agitated that I suspect him. "I didn't know about this, I swear."

"I'm going home." I tell him in firm tones, crossing my arms.

"Ken's driving to the hotel as we speak."

"No I mean home, home." I amend. "I can't stay here a day longer."


	8. Serious

Latest find: To write love on her arms by KaeSquared- check it out people, it really is amazing :)

**CHAPTER 8**

"Pack a bag."

Troy charges into my room with no introduction, making me jump as I flick my eyes up from my closet, trying to choose a comfortable outfit having removed my dress.

"What?" I ask, quickly grabbing a jumper dress and pulling it on to cover my semi-naked body.

"We have to get out of here," he tells me, buzzing around the room on adrenaline and checking outside my window.

"Troy, you're really scaring me, what's going on?"

He throws my suitcase onto the bed and goes around me to start filling it. "Just pack. We'll talk later."

"Talk about what? I deserve to know what's going on!"

He fills my case haphazardly in the space of ten minutes while I stand with my hands on my hips.

"Its not safe here, we have to go." He repeats.

"I don't understand…"

"Do you trust me?" he asks, holding out his hand. I flick my eyes to his and test the blue depths.

I put my hand into his palm where he closes his fingers over mine to lead me out of the room, into the long corridor and down the fire stairs, bringing us out onto the road where a car is parked.

"I'm driving," he tells me as he opens the passenger door.

I shoot him a frightened look wondering what the silent threat is. I see nothing, I know nothing, I just feel his tension and see his worry in his blue, blue eyes.

"Gabi, get in," he asks me gently and I obey, sliding into the seat and strapping on the belt, only just noticing he is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair covered by a baseball cap. He has changed in the ten minutes since we got back from the restaurant, where he left me in my room while he went to 'make a call.'

"Troy, I'm really scared…" I turn to him and see he is squinting into the rear mirror, then his side mirror, checking behind. I twist in the seat and see several cars behind. "Troy?"

"There's a blue SUV about five cars back." He records.

I look again, not seeing what he wants me to see. "Okay…"

"It's following us."

"Who is it?" I dash him a look.

"I don't know. I just know you're being followed."

"Oh my god," I suddenly feel faint and bend over in the seat to get some circulation.

"Look, I know a route okay?" He reaches over and touches my shoulder.

"What did I do? What did I do? Who hates me this much?" I ask myself over and over, searching for results.

"Breathe, okay?" He instructs, pressing his foot to the gas and lurching the car forward, eventually veering off to the left once we leave the city behind, taking a dirt track unseen from the road. One that bumps me and jiggles me in the seat.

"Jeez…" I frown sulkily.

"Do me a favour," he asks.

"What?"

"Call your father," he takes his phone back out of his pocket and hands it to me and I don't ask questions, I just obey, dialling his number from Troy's phone list.

"There's no answer," I tell him, confused at his instruction.

"Damn!" He sighs, hitting the steering column, making me jump.

Suddenly frightened tears lubricate my eyes, everything falling down on me so very fast as I struggle to make sense of what is happening. I've never felt so afraid before, I've never had my heart stop and beat twice as hard like it has done twenty times tonight, every second more confusing than the next, every shadow holding an unknown threat.

"Hey, Gabi, do you want me to stop?" Troy calls over the grapple of the gravel, concern laced into his voice.

I shake my head and cry into my lap, curling up in the seat away from him so that he doesn't have to see me having another major break down. The poor guy didn't sign up for hormonal waterworks as part of his job description.

"We're here," he quickly jumps out of the driver seat and runs around, unclipping my belt and lifting me into his arms with ease, striding toward a massive barn in apparently the middle of nowhere.

Inside the barn there's another vehicle- an old Lancer that looks rusty and abused.

"We're taking _that_?" I scoff.

"Just start her up and pull out so I can dump the Orion," he says, putting me down, throwing me the keys and I do it, too stunned to do anything else.

_This is it. This is my life- spent on the run, hiding from unknown danger. I'll never see the light of day again. I'll never-_

"Scoot over," Troy interrupts my thoughts.

I slide along the bench seat to comply. "Can you tell me what's going on already?"

"I told you, there's a threat…"

"I still don't know why we're running across country in this old pile of junk…"

"Hey, this is a classic," he defends testily and I nod.

"Right…"

"You have a stalker Gabi." He finally explains. "Someone who follows your every move and takes pictures- or items that you've dropped or touched and stacks them in a shrine until one day they finally snap because they can't get close enough and then they decide they want to kill you instead."

"Wow. Thanks for letting me know."

"I'm sorry…you asked…"

"I know," I sigh and blink down my lashes, hiding my eyes.

"Are you sure you can cope with this?" He prods gently.

"I just want a hug from my mom." I admit, looking to him and he flicks his eyes to mine for the smallest second.

"I understand that."

"Do you miss hugs from your mom?" I wonder.

"At times like this, yeah I kinda do," he smiles in recognition.

I nod and look out of the window, the route empty and untraced as we climb uphill, heading toward the horizon of jagged mountains.

"Where are we going?" I wonder then.

"To the cabin."

"What cabin?"

"The mountain retreat cabin. The one your dad bought two years ago when he and his friends played Poker in town."

"And he needed a cabin?"

"He's _your_ dad!"

"He has too much money…" I mutter, folding my arms. "How much longer?"

"Two hours."

"What! Two hours? I need to pee already!"

"Then I'll stop and you can-"

"I can what! Pee behind a cactus?" I screech of our surroundings.

"It's all I can offer."

"Where's James?" I wonder as he pulls over and I screw up my face at the thought of having to pee behind a bush or prickly plant.

"He's gone." Troy states softly and I flick him a look. "No, not dead. Just gone."

"He was ratting me out," I realise grimly and Troy hands me a wad of tissues, pointing to a knarly pecan tree that died years ago and just acts as a shield now.

"Thanks," I barely grimace, taking the tissues and squatting with little grace. "You look and you die!" I call while I close my eyes and pretend no-one is here so I can actually let my bladder loose.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he mutters just loud enough so I can hear.

"You know what Troy?" I ask as I swish by him back toward the car. "You can be quite funny when you're not being all serious."

"One of us has to be serious." He argues as he follows me back, looking around to check for any activity and finding none.

"You do more than enough for us both," I assure.

"Because your parents are trusting your life in my hands." He opens the passenger door for me again, his gelled hair messed and sexy.

"Well they shouldn't." I muse. "My life is in my hands. No-one else's."

The drive is long. I get bored quickly and sing to the radio for as long as I can before playing eye spy with a reluctant Troy. Finally, after going dizzy with the round-and round- and round circles of the mountain, we pull up at a small village, ditching the car in a car lot and going on foot.

"I don't like the idea of not being able to escape…" I tell Troy nervously as he purchases groceries in bulk.

"I have another car at the cabin." He assures.

"You thought of everything."

"Pick some stuff you like," he offers and I add things to the basket, helping him carry them the mile we walk to the cabin, finally coming inside where I can dump the grocery sacks and lay out on the sofa, exhausted by the entire evening's activities.

"I have a call to make," he tells me. "I'll be right outside."

I lift my head to watch him go, seeing him wander by the lodge window as he paces with his cell phone, deep in frowning concentration.

He looks so sexy when he does that- all brooding and kissable. I wish we were back on the dance floor when everything was fun and still made sense. Unlike now, when nothing made the slightest bit of sense to me.

How long would we have to wait here, I wonder? How would they catch the stalker? Would I get blown up in a boat like in The Bodyguard? Did my stalker have my clothes? Pieces of my hair? Did they get photographs? Why would they want to destroy me? Playboy was a controversial part of my career but would anyone actually go this far to hurt me?

A million thoughts race around my mind as I try to make sense of them and another call home results in no answer once more. _Where the hell are my parents? _I wonder as I chew my thumb worriedly. What a time to go AWOL when I really, really need them.

And as Troy steps back into the cabin, something becomes amazingly clear to me. He gave me the perfect birthday and I didn't even thank him for it.

"Wow, what's this for?" Troy wonders of the hug I have landed on him as he came inside.

"Thank you."

"What for?" He frowns bemusedly.

"For making my birthday perfect."

"I'd hardly say that…" He amends.

"And for saving my life."

"You wouldn't have died."

"I might have if the brick got me."

"I'm just sorry your birthday was ruined," he winces, pulling away and pressing his lips together.

"It wasn't. It was amazing. So thank you."

He nods and heads for the shower, his slow, tired strides showing how the stress of the night has affected him, too.

I come out of my own shower sometime later, dressed for bed, finding him already asleep on the sofa, his adorably soft snores filling the aching silence surrounding us. He has one arm dangling down from the sofa, his body covered in only his boxers and a t-shirt, giving me a lovely view of his behind as I cover him over and rest his hand up to stop him getting pins and needles.

"Sleep tight, bodyguard," I touch his hair. "I'm glad you're ok."


	9. MacGyver

Thanks, as always!

For those of you who are too young to remember, MacGyver (TV Show) was a hero who made a bomb out of chewing gum once :)

**CHAPTER 9**

Having decided there was no way on earth I could possibly get any sleep while I'm in a different room to Troy, I relocate with my duvet into the large easy chair in the lounge, curling up and sleeping fitfully with nightmarish images of the brick attack waking me at short intervals.

Finally, I see sunlight and stretch, looking over for Troy and seeing his cocoon empty and I immediately wonder where he is.

"Troy?"

"Here." He's right behind me and I jump in fright.

"Are you trying to scare me?" I accuse. "Because it worked."

"I was just coming back in to check on you," he frowns, coming around. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay…" I sulk sleepily, then sit up.

"Did you get hold of your dad?" He checks.

"No, he's out of town still," I muse. "Why?"

"Because I know right now you must wonder who you can trust and I want you to know you can trust me."

"I do." I frown.

"You shouldn't." He smiles a little. "You should be wary of anyone until you know for sure."

"You rescued me and brought me out of harms way," I argue. "That's good enough for me."

He nods and puts his hands on his hips. "I made breakfast."

"You can cook?" I goggle.

"A little," he shrugs.

"Well bring it on then," I stand eagerly, kicking away my duvet. "I'm starving."

/

"I saw your Playboy."

It was later, much later, breakfast was over and there was nothing to do so I just decided to curl up in my long line jumper on the couch, pull on my house socks and feel sorry for myself.

Troy's admission makes me look up to him where he sits opposite me in the huge chair, filling it well. He is reading again, something so calm in the wake of the harassing night before.

"You did?"

"Yeah. I looked it up," he smiles slowly.

"Thanks," I mumble sulkily.

"I can see why people got jealous," he offers with a hooded look, something I've not seen before and that flips my tummy.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"But you look great in it-more than great-" he adds with an eyebrow jig. "You should be proud."

I keep his gaze and swallow. "I am."

"Then why say all that about your figure back at the beach?" He puzzles.

I shrug. "It's Playboy. They want you to look hot- to look fuckable, it's what they're about…"

"But you're still that person- without the ears," he teases and I blush.

"I was seventeen I hadn't grown these hips and this ass…"

"But you're still amazingly beautiful." He states and this time I really am lost for words. When he said he saw me as a beautiful woman, something in me had yearned to believe it, but I never quite did. I never quite _got _what people saw when they said things like that.

"Are you just being nice to me because you know some psycho is stalking my ass?"

"No. I'm being nice to you because I should have a long time ago."

"So what changed, Troy Bolton? Why did you decide it's ok to be nice to me now?"

"A few things." He shrugs. "I got to know you," he adds.

"I thought you'd already made up your mind about me?"

"Well maybe I was wrong." He admits.

"How?"

"When you played Frisbee with me and Sal, I saw another side to you." He described. "And seeing you so scared back there- it's made me realise a few things."

"Like what?"

"Like, I saw you for who you are. Not the all-singing, all dancing Gabriella Montez. Just Gabi, the girl from Boston who likes playing on the beach. Gabi who has a chink in her armour."

"You really thought I was bullet proof?" I ask, surprised. I thought I wore my vulnerability with ease.

"I thought a lot of things that have been proved wrong."

"How long do we have to stay here?" I wonder, worrying again. I'm going insane with boredom already.

"Until they catch him."

"They?"

"The cops."

"That could take a while."

"Just a few days. You think you can cope with me for that long?" He smiles.

"I think so."

/

"I know! Let's go on a nature walk!" I dash into the living room after napping after lunch and I find Troy focusing on some kind of creation that is made up of wires and circuit boards. "What's that?" I ask fearfully.

He looks up, his hair fluffy and messed, his body relaxed in our new environment away from most of the previous stresses.

"It's a trigger. If anyone crosses the trip wire, it'll set an alarm inside the house."

"Well, MacGyver's in the building," I smart, placing my hands to my hips. "But won't you come out for a bit?"

"My job never stops, Gabi," he warns me in a low voice and I realise he has changed again. He flips from sensitive, caring Troy to professional, protective Troy in a matter of hours and I'm spinning to keep up.

"Fine, I'll go on my own." I decide and stomp back into the bedroom.

"Oh no you don't…" he laughs, rising to follow me in, caging me into the room as he lays his hands on either side of the door jamb. "You don't go anywhere alone."

I walk up with a sassy smile on my face and stand before him. "Nowhere?"

He blinks, his face inches from mine and I see something cross his eyes, only I can't tell what.

"I mean it." He states in barely a husk. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Well that could be hard considering I have to pee sometimes."

"Don't even joke about this," he frowns crossly. "Promise me right now you won't go out alone."

"Fine." I arch a brow.

"Say the words, Gabi," he tips his chin down just like a father would to his child.

"I promise…._dad_." I add sarcastically, sighing as I throw myself on the bed. "I'm bored!"

"What do you usually do when you have free time?" He asks, trying to help.

I look up. "Free time? What's that?"

"I have internet on my phone. Do you want to look stuff up?" He offers.

"No…" I pout, rolling up and going to my case. "I'm going to unpack."

"Right, okay," he nods and leaves the doorway now that he thinks I'm safe. What he doesn't know is that I crossed my fingers behind my back when he made me promise, because I have no intention of staying in this constrictive space. I'm going to get out. I just don't know when…or how.

/

"Are you going to bed?" Troy asks me and I smile slowly, adding words to his sentence in my head to amuse myself. _With you? Yes, please._

"Why, who are you sneaking in after dark?" I enquire cheekily.

He blinks at me patiently.

"Why do I always get the feeling you still think of me as a child?" I wonder.

"Because you mistake my concern for parental authority." He supplies truthfully.

"Aw, are you worried about me, BG?" I ask, rising from my chair to pinch his cheeks, giving him a nickname. He squints at me until I let go.

"Of course I'm worried about you…" He sighs frustratedly and rises to walk me to my room it would seem.

His words sober me and I feel fear spread in the pit of my tummy. "Can you sleep in here tonight?" I ask.

"There's no chair."

"Then sleep on the edge of the bed. I promise I won't do what I did last time," I offer, clasping my fingers together nervously at the thought of being left alone. I watch as Troy sighs and runs his fingers into his hair.

"You didn't do anything…" he mutters confusedly.

"Well I woke up alone. I guess I must have slobbered or something." I shrug.

"Gabi…"

"Don't sweat it," I assure. "Just please don't make me sleep alone. I'll take the big chair again if I have to," I plead.

He nods slowly as he caves. "Ok, I'll lay on the edge until you're asleep."

It's not entirely what I wanted to hear but it's the best I can do. Hopefully once I'm asleep the demons will stop haunting me and I can pretend I'm normal again.

Having Troy in my bed- well _on _it- on the very edge trying to stay professional, has got to be the best part of my year so far. Dancing with him was- well, I smile- magical and the birthday surprise was hope for something more but now that idea has been shattered.

He can't get far enough away from me as both last night; and now tonight, go to show. Once I feel like we're making progress, we snap back to this cold, separated existence and in these moments, I feel the chill of my loneliness creep over me once more.

When I can actually get a hold of my father I'm going to tell him this is what happens when he goes out of town and forgets I exist. I get bricks thrown at me and bundled away to protect my own life.

How would they feel then, knowing that? For one fleeting moment, it crosses my mind that neither of my parents would care but I know, deep down, that's not true. They cared enough to put me through drama school. They cared enough to fund my first record. They bought me singing lessons and costumes and pay for me to have the best. But something is missing.

I miss hugging mom when a guy has hurt my feelings. I miss telling Tay about my recording sessions and the adventures in my day. I miss shopping with Sharpay and walking Manly the dog with Ryan. I miss home.

"Hey, shh…" Troy's warm voice jolts me and I realise I am crying- again. God do these tears ever stop? It's so embarrassing when you fancy a guy and all you do is cry in front of him, because then all he is going to think is what a pathetic idiot you are.

"I'm ok," I lie through more quiet sobs, the emotions of the last hours coursing through me in waves of emotional tears.

"It's okay, Gabi," He spoons me into a gentle hug, brushing back my hair soothingly. "Everything is gonna be just fine…"

"Someone wants to hurt me," I hitch. "Somebody wants me to die."

"No, shh," he tightens his arms around me. "Nothing will happen to you. I promise…"

"Guys promise lots of things," I muse drily.

"I won't let you down." He assures me.

"I don't understand why this is happening…" I beseech tearily.

"Neither do I," he husks, his fingers brushing back my wavy hair from my face with gentle strokes, the backs of his fingers stroking the skin and easing my pain. "But I promise I'll find out. And I'll stop them, Gabi. I'll stop anyone who tries to hurt you."

"You don't have to protect me now," I point out. "You could leave me here."

"That's not an option." He assures.

"Why not? You don't have to stay, Troy. I can just go home and let my dad deal with all of this…"

"Your dad's not at home, Gabi." He reminds me. "He asked me to personally make sure of your safety."

"I'm not the queen!" I tense and flip over, meeting blue eyes. "You don't have to do this anymore…"

His dark look tells me he does. The way his gaze drops to my mouth tells me so much more and suddenly, I feel a hot want begin to throb inside me, something I hadn't felt for a while and I had never expected to feel with Troy. It was the delirious feeling of knowing he wanted to kiss me. And I never in a million years thought he would.

"I can't leave." Although he doesn't say why, his words hit me deep inside.

_Oh god,_ I close my eyes as a feeling washes over me that I do not want to have. I do not want to feel it right here, in this moment, but here it is anyway, bright and clean and pure. _I'm falling in love with you, Troy Bolton. And you don't even know how hard…_

"Gabi?"

I pop my eyes open at the sound of his voice. "Mm?"

"Sorry, I thought you'd fallen asleep."

He's still lying next to me, looking into my face. "No I was thinking."

"Can you sleep?" He asks next, hopefully, clearly agitated to get back to his security device.

I nod and smile a little, closing my eyes and forcing my breaths to lengthen to convince him as much and when I feel his weight shift, I flick open one eye to watch him go. Only something strange happens. He doesn't go. He just unbuckles his belt, slides off his jeans and pulls off his socks and then lifts the covers to come back into the bed and sleep and I pray my thundering heartbeat can't be heard from his side of the bed.

_Oh my god, he stayed with me! _My heart screams. _He's sleeping in my bed all night!_

And slowly my body relaxes enough for me to sleep. Albeit with the hugest smile on my face.

/

"#Good day sunshine! Good day sunshine!#"

There actually isn't any sunshine because it's before dawn and up here in the mountains, fog seems to be a fashion statement.

But I'm not going to be put off. _I've escaped. _

Troy was fast asleep as I snuck out in my pyjamas and wellies, searching for lighting wood so we can have a fire in the old fire place and actually make the place feel like home.

The quiet out here is still, pierced only by shrieks of birds and scattering of feet of small mammals. Right now I couldn't be happier, trekking through the wooded area, basket swinging, looking up at the tree tops.

A twig breaks and my hackles rise quickly, reminding me of that day back at the studio when I thought I was being followed. I look around me- all ways- my heart pounding, then dismiss the noise, continuing on my way.

It's not long before I'm down the hill, out of sight from the lodge and discovering a particularly awesome source of kindling wood, the noises around me blurred by my singing as I relax back into my safe environment.

"Gabi!"

I jump half a mile at the shout of my name, putting my hand to my heart as I turn and see Troy running for me- in bare feet no less, still in his boxers and tee from last night. In his hand he has a gun and the sight of the black metal freezes my heart.

"What the hell are you doing?" He roars angrily, grasping me by the upper arms, after tucking his weapon into his boxer's band.

"Getting wood," I screw up my face at his behaviour, feeling the press of his gun as he grasps me close.

"I thought I told you not to leave the lodge without me?" His eyes are piercing mine- angry and hard.

I shrug awkwardly, wrestling with his grip. "I wanted some air."

"You promised me…" He warns, his eyes glittering with concern.

"I'm sorry." I offer meekly.

"Sorry isn't good enough! Not out here! I can only keep you safe if you let me…"

"Ouch," his bruising grip stings my skin and I see his face soften along with his hands.

"I'm sorry," he pants out, swallowing. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

I can see the worry in his face and the panic in his slowing breaths and I feel bad for making him scared like that.

"You came out with no shoes," I tell him.

"I know, I didn't even stop to think about shoes," he admits.

I smile at him, a little flicker of hope in my heart. "Thank you for caring."

"Of course I care," he frowns. "Why didn't you just tell me where you were going?"

"Because sometimes I need to be on my own, okay?" I beseech. "Sometimes I need to make sense of all of this and stop myself going crazy with it."

He sighs and steps forward, giving me a huge hug. "Just tell me next time, ok?"

I nod against his vice-like embrace. "Ok."

"You're not hugging me back," he pulls away with a frown. "You always tell me how you like hugs."

"I was crushed." I smile shyly, secretly rocked by his impromptu embrace.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologises again, looking awkward- all bulky and gorgeous at the same time.

"No problem."

"Want another?" He arches his brow and I twist my lips as I hug him around the middle, his arms more gentle and encompassing this time.

"Are you okay now?" I ask him knowingly with a little teasing smile.

He smiles back with a squint, not answering, just taking my basket of wood from me with gentle fingers and turning back toward the house, following me as I head the way.


	10. Strip Poker

Lol, armmisc; so true :)

Thank you, ilovesmiles, you're amazing too.

And welcome Belieber.

Glad you like it people :D And glad you are too enjoying the legend that is MacGyver…

**CHAPTER 10**

"Stop looking at me like that," I tell Troy as I eat huge mouthfuls of toast that I have smothered in jam. He has flicked his eyes to me at least three times since we sat down.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a naughty toddler about to bolt at any second," I tell him with a tilt of my head.

"Well you will run off," he chides.

"I was getting wood to make a fire." I remind him and he softens his face with a grin that breaks a flash of his teeth.

"Well that's okay then," he teases.

"Will you help me light it?" I ask.

He finishes his toast and lays down the crusts to his plate, wiping his hands on his top and padding over to the fireplace. He's put on jeans since we came back in but I still tilt my head at the softer-looking Troy.

"Come," he cups his hand to beckon me. I kneel in front of the fireplace and press my lips in, waiting.

"Screw up some paper…" he passes me yesterday's tabloid and I take two or three pages off and put them into the hearth, frowning as I see a picture of me and Troy with a sub headline 'Birthday Bootie'. The picture is of Troy carrying me to the limo, his strong hands grasping my flesh and causing the insinuation of the paper. I pause to read the blurb, seeing that they have printed about our dance; and the brick incident, playing that part down to up the sex factor of the story.

"Apparently you 'gripped my bootie like a man starved of backside'," I deride with a giggle.

Troy leans over to see the picture, his arm brushing mine. He swallows before he speaks. "It wasn't my intention."

I roll my eyes at him. "I know that."

"There's nothing about the attack?" He quizzes.

"Just a passing mention. Clearly destroying shop fronts is not a reportable incident." I screw up the page and add it to the pile.

"It's a good job they're keeping it quiet; we don't want anyone getting any ideas." He states as he leans back on his feet.

"Ok what now?" I look up to him.

He's staring at me and I lift my brows. "What?"

He flicks his eyes over my face and swallows again. "Nothing. Okay, take some small twigs and make a tee pee with them…" He hands me some small sticks and I take them one at a time, flicking him suspicious looks.

"Ok, now add two or three bigger ones," he points to the size I should use and I add them and then he passes me the matches.

"Burn away, girl scout," he smiles cutely.

I light the match and set fire to the paper in two or three places, watching my wood catch alight quickly, shifting over as Troy comes beside me, reaching across to add a twig here and there, building up the mound.

"I'll get some logs," he tells me, looking down into my face.

"Okay." I look up, staring at his mouth.

A moment passes where we just lock gazes and wonder why neither of us can move and then he launches to his feet, quickly striding out into the yard for the log store, bringing an armful back in with him, his gaze checking where I am before he loads the grate.

"You bored now?" He smiles behind him to where I sit on the sofa.

I twirl my hair in my fingers. "I just do not know what I am going to do for three days or whatever."

_Actually, I know something I __**would **__like to do. _But that is not an option right now. And maybe never will be. But still, secretly my heart beats for the hope of having more than concerned hugs with Troy. It still beats hard at the idea of having that, at all.

Troy seemingly has plenty to occupy his time and I watch him for the all of the morning and most of the afternoon while he works and then something tickles my brain.

"I know!" I sit up with sheer genius sparkling in my eyes. "Let's play strip poker!"

Troy chuckles as he pads over to the table to check his leather holster, shrugging into the strap, wearing his gun next to his side for a moment. "No way."

"Why not?" I watch with fascination as he slips the leather frame off again, tucking his gun into his jeans and pulling his t-shirt over with long lean fingers to cover it. Somehow seeing him like this is very strange and exciting all at once.

"Why not?" He echoes, his brows shooting up and he turns to smirk at me incredulously. "Because."

_He is SUCH an old man!_

"Come on, it'll be fun," I whine, desperate for activity.

"Not if I lose."

"What's the worst that could happen?" I pose with a purse my lips in challenge.

"We both end up naked." He deadpans with a dark look. A strangely sexy look.

"Ok, first to their undies loses." I bargain with some rules.

He blinks twice. "No."

"Please…"

"I said, no." He affirms.

"Pretty please with cherries on top?" I tilt my head, widen my eyes and flutter my lashes hopefully as he stares at me, unimpressed.

"Will it shut you up for the whole night?"

I shrug. "Maybe for a few hours."

"Fine. Let's see your poker face, Montez," he heads over after grabbing sodas from the fridge and I deal the cards with nervous hands.

What if I really do win? I'll get to see _that body._ The one he hides under those suits. This might be one of the best worst trips I've ever had.

"Fold," he says with a smug smile.

I roll my eyes. "Oh please. Are you gonna play or not- _wimp?_" I accuse.

"I'll play- when I have a hand to play with!" He assures teasingly, taking a toothpick laid on the table and poking it between his lips, his tongue rolling over the tiny stick as he moves it around his mouth. Something about that made me itch deep inside, wanting to feel his tongue there, within me. I wriggle against my discomfort.

"Ok, re-deal," I meet his gaze and lay new cards, lifting my set to study. Cool, three Jacks.

He lays a card down. "Change." He announces, picking up a new one and studying his new set.

The way his eyebrows furrow down, creating a little dig above his eye as his lips purse in concentration and I'm mesmerised by the flesh there, it was enough to make me want to kiss away his frown.

In fact I could just imagine his strong arms and moody kiss crushing me and I swallow back my attraction, deciding soda is not going to be strong enough for this game.

"Beer?" I offer, jumping up to collect two from the fridge.

"I'm on duty," he reminds me.

"One won't hurt…" I deny, laying the bottles down.

"No thanks," he repeats.

He really is taking this job seriously, I muse with a twitch of my lips, reaching for the other beer and lining it up with mine.

His blue eyes-which looked gray in the dim light and were dark edged-met mine and held them.

"Don't you dare say I'm not old enough," I warn, taking one of the toothpicks and tonguing it too.

"I wasn't about to." He replies drily.

"Sure." I lay down my three Jacks and an Ace of hearts. "Flush."

His eyes meet mine again and he presses his lips in, seemingly surprised I can play.

"Fold," he tells me again, rolling off his socks and flinging them away.

I smile, dealing the next hand, watching as he picks up his batch and changes two, then three cards. I pick up two then squint across, wondering what he has.

"Six diamonds," he lays them out with a proud smile.

"Two Aces," I smile sadly back, opting to lose my jeans seeing as he has seen my bare legs before. Although he still flicks his eyes up to my thighs and pauses them there.

"I could get to like this game," he teases and I smile wanly.

"You'll be next, Bolton," I assure.

And he is. I lay down my Kings with gloating knowledge that I have won.

"Nice hand," he nods, standing and tugging his tee top over his head, revealing his hidden gun, firstly, followed by a uniquely divine belly and then finally a chest that ought to be cast in bronze as a permanent sculpture to commemorate the perfect male chest.

Oh, but he is _ripped. _His tummy button is asking to be tasted. His pecs- big, firm and proud atop his chest-are framed with wide, wide muscled shoulders that are crying out to be clung to. I can't even mention his arms. We all know why- it's dangerous ground.

"Shall I deal?" He asks with a raised brow as I continue to gawp.

"Maybe we shouldn't play anymore…" I mutter, transfixed by his manly upper body.

He meets my eyes and smiles a little. "Running scared?"

_Running horny, _I amend silently as I reach for my beer and take two long swigs. I'm not sure how much I can handle and although my plan was to see him naked, now I'm regretting my decision because with him sitting there, with that grin and that body, it feels a lot more dangerous than even the stalker following me.

"Oh, god," I wince as he lays down a winning hand.

I don't have much left to take off. I should have worn more, I realise. Standing up, I take great pains to move as slowly as possible, thereby drawing out the inevitable. I swipe off my jumper-top, leaving a cute camisole over my bra. His eyes cling to me for a second, his lips twitching.

"You better win the next one," he smirks.

_Oh sure, Mr. Smug, _I muse. _You just sit there all sexy and topless and goad me for ever starting this ridiculous…THING._

The worst of it is, I don't win the next hand. So I am forced –with my jaw clenched and lips pressed together- to remove my vest and reveal my matching lingerie set to him, right there, in the cabin living room. _Great plan, Gabi. It worked like a dream…_

The first beer bottle is empty. I'm on my second and I squint one eye at him.

"Did you plan this?" I put my hands on my hips.

"It was your idea!" He spits out an indignant laugh, his grin doing funny things to my tummy as the beer swishes around.

"You cheated to get me naked." I accuse and then something happens.

His smirk softens, his eyes fade from amusement to something else-some kind of hot, coal glow, and he drags his gaze down my body with slow, smiling appraisal.

"So this is the real-life Playboy bunny," he husks, only his teasing words aren't derogatory at all, they're filled with desire. My breath hitches in my lungs and I drop my hands from my hips, not knowing what to do with them. I watch him stand and come towards me, his gaze still fixed on my body, then my mouth as he comes closer.

"You should get dressed now," he tells me, offering me his top.

I jut my chin. "So should you."

"In a different place, I wouldn't be this polite," he bunches up the top, ready to put it on me.

"Then why are you?" I challenge, wanting to touch my nearly-naked torso to his and feel the hard heat of his muscles.

"I'm your bodyguard…"

Just that one word has me groaning out loud, stepping up to curl my hand around his neck as I brush my lips against his, begging for something back.

Only he doesn't give it. He just stares at me, unreadable.

And I blush, horrified at my mistake as my body presses to his and reminds me what I can't have.

I step away, burned by my move.

"I'm so sorry," I cringe, quickly picking up my clothes, ready to run.

"Gabi…" He sighs behind me, but all I leave him with is the slam of the bedroom door.


	11. The Right Guy

I'm seeing some new names commenting- liveurlife, tothefullpotential (are you the same person, your names go together? Lol) Daniela and Susan- thank you for the positive feedback :) greenipod, thanks for reviewing each chapter, it's never too late!

And I see those familiar names too, so don't go getting' jealous :p

Good to have you back whirlerflake & kaybaby :)

I appreciate you all, thank you.

**CHAPTER 11**

_Please god, don't make me go out there. Don't make me go out there and face the man I kissed last night- the one who didn't kiss me back…_

My prayer is not answered. I groan as a soft knock sounds on my door and I roll onto my front to hide myself from the visitor even though he's still on the other side of the door.

"Gabi? Are you okay in there?"

_Am I ok? _Well that's debateable. Do you mean, physically, am I ok, has anyone hurt me? Yes, I'm actually fine, thank you.

But otherwise? Distraught. Ashamed. Crapping myself beyond comprehension at facing this moment. I have never kissed a guy before and not had him kiss me back.

Sounds cocky, I know, but it's not. I've just been lucky enough to have my feelings reciprocated before. I've been lucky enough to be kissed back.

"Gabi, open up, or I'm coming in." His tone is harder, edged with concern, and maybe-just maybe- a little danger if he finds wrongdoings inside.

_Go ahead, break in, see if I care, _I muse, still hiding under my mane of black curls, something I am now grateful for. Maybe I can brush them over my face and become and 'It'-like being. You can still see I'm human, still see I'm a girl, even. Just not have to see my embarrassed, shameful face.

"Gabi?" The door opens and I make out the relieved sigh as Troy enters. In with him comes this heavy pressing awareness of what I did. I swallow to try and rid the lump of rejection in my throat. The one I haven't dealt with yet.

"What?" I mumble into my pillow.

"You didn't answer…" I can almost hear his frown.

"I'm sleeping." I lie, still muffled by my hiding place.

"You should answer. So that I know you're okay…" _Aw. So concerned, _I muse.

"I'm ok."

"Are you getting up today?" He enquires and I imagine him placing his hands on his hips that way he always does when he thinks he's my father and has to tell me what to do.

"No." At least I'm honest.

"You're not hungry?" He checks, knowing full well I am. He's never seen me skip a meal, it's my legendary trait. No matter how busy I am, how many places I have to go, how fast I have to run- I always eat. Hence my big backside. Hence how it wobbles when he's behind me. Maybe skipping breakfast wouldn't be a bad idea…

"Gabi." He's annoying me now. Why is he still here?

"Go away."

"I know why you're doing this," he broaches and I hold my breath, the pain of my embarrassment flooding me with regret.

"Then you'll leave me alone." I reason, holding my hair down with my hands to reinforce my hiding position.

"Look," In my mind, I see him lick his lips- he does that when he's nervous. "Let's forget about last night, okay?"

_Forget about it? _I snort at the irony. I won't be forgetting it any time soon. It's burned into me like a big angry blister, reminding me never to be so stupid as to kiss a guy again. _What was I thinking? _Guys my age-sure. Go for it- chances are, they'll kiss you back even if they don't fancy you.

Twenty-six year old _men _with jobs to do and homes to go to? With random _grown _women to shag? _Really, Montez, you should know better…_

"Are you mad at me?"

His question unsettles me. _Mad?_ Hah! I wish! Why would I be mad? At him? I'm mad at myself for ever thinking it, for ever trying it and now for ever imagining it- because it's obvious that I have imagined the whole thing. The looks he supposedly gave me, the smiles. It was all a figment of my fear-pickled mind and it had presented itself with my stupid need to kiss him.

Only his voice is soft, inflected with worry, like he _knows _there's part of last night that lies with him.

"No." I confirm, feeling my precarious tears threaten, swallowing them down again.

_He doesn't want me. Oh, god, it's so achingly clear he doesn't want me. And why would he? Look at me! A crying, shaking, emotional mess of a GIRL that he just has to look after, like a little pet or a daughter of his own. I am and never will be-_

"I never meant to hurt your feelings."

Oh god, so he knows. He knows I'm bawling because he rejected me. Can this day get any worse? You know what? Bring on the stalker; I'd rather face him right now than this big, excruciating mess.

"Will you please just say something?" He begs and I realise he is not going away. He really wants to make sure this is okay. If it wasn't so ironic, it might actually be touching.

"It's fine, Troy," I lift my head but don't look to him, the tears aching my throat and changing my voice. I sound blocked up, hurt. "You didn't do anything wrong."

There's silence. I guess he has gone. _Finally. _I rest my face back down and sob, really sob, letting my emotions out now I have the privacy to do so.

"I'm sorry," his warm hand spreads flat against my back and I jump, not expecting him there.

"Jesus!" I complain in fright, breathing hard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He's sorry a lot it seems.

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Look, last night…" Another lick of his lips, I know him so well I don't even have to see him do it.

"Please, can we not talk about it anymore? I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

"You should know-"

"Know what, Troy?" This time I do twist and squint into his eyes, the blue there bringing the ache into my chest I didn't want. One of longing. One of not having.

I continue, "I should know that all you think of me, is that I'm some _girl _who runs around on daddy's money, drinking beer when I shouldn't be- playing games I shouldn't be?" I question.

Actually, strip poker _did _work. I had successfully seduced guys before that way.

Another lick. "That's not what I think…"

"Then what?" I challenge, only the silence that follows is loud and painful, until it is broken by a loud bang, a shotgun, nearby.

Troy jumps up, hand to his gun immediately as he comes around the bed to split my curtains, instantly assessing the scene as I sit up, panicked, my heart beating a hundred miles an hour.

"Stay here." He tells me firmly, weaving around my bed to head out.

"Wait!" I cry, frightened.

"I set the trip wire. You'll know if anyone comes near. Just hide under the bed and I'll come find you." He instructs and I nod, shaking, wrapping my arms around myself.

They have to be the longest moments of my life, waiting for him to return. I can't breathe. I can't even sit, I have to walk. I have to pace my worry off, and I keep telling myself not to look. I can't look out of that window because I am afraid of what I might see.

It takes hours. It must be hours! It feels like ten hours have passed already and its maybe only ten minutes. And then I hear footsteps on the veranda.

They come inside, heavy and sure and as the breath leaves my lungs, I pray inwards silently that the steps belong to Troy because the alternative is unthinkable. The alternative-

"Hey, it's ok," He wraps me into his body and holds tight, all the while I'm hugging myself and gasping for breaths. "Shh, it's okay…"

If there is a time I'm not crying, I don't remember it. This is truly more embarrassing than trying to kiss him. And then my tears after. And lest we forget the billion other times I bawled my eyes out in front of this man. James never got any. Not that I felt like I could let my guard down with him the way I have with Troy, but still. I should have shared them out more.

"I have to stop crying!" I tell myself, wiping my face as I am crushed to Troy's body, making some room between us as I do so.

"It's a natural reaction," he assures caringly.

"Who had the gun?" I look up, wide eyed.

"The farmer who owns the land behind."

"What if he comes, Troy? What if the stalker comes here and I have no chance?" I worry.

"You have me," he reminds me.

"They haven't caught him yet?" I check and he shakes his head.

"Have you heard from your dad?" He asks.

"I don't have signal anymore," I press the corner of my lips in.

"Try mine…" He offers his handset and I dial, reaching the voicemail of my family home.

"Mom, Dad, it's me. Your only daughter," I sigh at the machine. "You must have got lost in the Andes and eaten each other alive because I called a billion times and you never answer…" I roll my eyes at Troy, finding him smirking at my message. "So yeah, call me." I finish, handing him his cell back.

"Nice message."

"Do you think they're ok?" I worry momentarily.

He looks at me blankly. "I hope so."

I nod, hating this feeling of unease from all angles. Being followed- being prey to danger. Being shacked up with a man too sexy for his own good. Kissing said man and having him reject me- the worst feeling in the world by the way- and then this, my parents missing and being unable to contact them. What if they're really _not _ok? How would I know? What if _they've _been targeted by the stalker instead of me?

What if Troy bringing me here is some big ruse in an intricate plot to kidnap me- or worse?

I look at him suspiciously, stepping further away from his strong body. I swallow, not sure what to ask, what to say.

"What's wrong?" He senses it right away- my mistrust.

"Why did you bring me here?" I find the words.

"Because your father told me to."

"I haven't spoken to my father since my birthday. That's when you brought me."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm trying to get hold of him too…"

"Are you?" I arc, breathing hard, stepping back again, warily.

"Gabi, you can trust me. We've been through this…"

"No, we haven't." I argue. "I did trust you- I was sure of it. But maybe my feelings were fogging my brain…"

"Feelings?" His tongue strokes over his lower lip and I blush, at both the picture my mind conjures of that tongue, flicking into my mouth and as I recall my actions from last night.

"You know? The ones that made me kiss you?" I stare at him widely, not believing he is feigning ignorance.

He pauses, flicks his long lashes down, then up as he sighs out, ready to say more.

"I swear on my life I will not let anything happen to you."

It's a bold statement. Is it a cover? How am I even meant to know? I trust whoever my dad hires for the job- Troy, James. And James was dirty. Or was he, I wonder? Or was Troy just saying that to get me away?

No, something beating in my heart tells me Troy is the one to trust, but I can't help my confused thoughts anyway.

"That's not something I can test." I broach, stepping back as he steps forward and his face breaks with regret.

"I'm sorry if you feel that you can't trust me. I always had your safety as my priority."

"I don't doubt that," I agree. "I just haven't worked out whose side you're on," I add.

"Yours." He assures, meeting my eyes.

"Everything is so crazy right now; I just don't know where to turn…" I explain, beginning to regret my doubts.

He steps forward again, waiting to see if I run, but I stay put, waiting for him to come before me where he cups my face with his hands and looks directly into my eyes, his mouth a thin line until he releases his fleshy lips from their tight hold.

"I know I hurt you last night and I'm sorry for that. It was never my intention," he repeats his words from earlier, trapping me with his soulful eyes as his mouth moves. "If it was another time- another place- any other scenario than me being your protection, then I would have kissed you back." He reveals, making me gasp as my eyes widen in shock, but he carries on, regardless.

"If you doubt me, it's because you can probably tell I'm fighting myself _not _to kiss you and believe me, it's confusing the hell out of me, too," he smirks. "But know this, I _will _protect you. And I won't let my feelings compromise that promise."

_He wanted to kiss me? _

"I really wish you could speak to your father so that you know you're with the right guy," he sighed. "I want you to be in no doubt about that- if the need ever comes."

"You think I might flip for the other side?" I smile timidly.

He blinks, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. "I don't know what the other side might try." He admitted.

"I know I'm with the right guy," I smile at the irony. Oh how I _wish _I were with him.

"You should get something to eat," he pulls back, his professional mask sliding into place as he wipes a hand over his face.

_I should kiss you, more like,_ I smile to myself as I pass him, knowing that's not a risk I am going to take again anytime soon.


	12. Made of Stone

WOW! 33 reviews :o that must be a record! You guys are amazing.

Tothefullpotential: It's actually not hard updating quickly because I have many stories in the pipeline ready to go; I write in batches and post quick!

And Daniela don't feel bad, just welcome to the club :) You really don't need to review everything! Happy Birthday :D

Kim, thankyou for taking a chance ;)

**CHAPTER 12**

The swing seat on the veranda offers a wonderful resting place, my feet curled up, my hair blowing in the breeze, wearing a long peach vest as a dress and reading a paperback I found in the cabin- Stephen King can you believe?- and actually, I'm not reading the book anyway. Just pretending to as Troy works in the yard doing man-things.

So far he has chopped wood, tinkered with the truck, built intruder traps from old barrels (don't ask) and chopped more wood.

I see him connect the hose to the outside tap but decide to feign absorption in my book until I know what he is planning.

He is a treat to watch. He has rolled up his t-shirt sleeves and is sweating through the fine cloth, his arms bunching and bulging with each activity he chooses to do, a fact which pleases me no end. And his jeans are stretching attractively against his backside, a sight I will _never _fed of, I realise with a little desired sigh.

_If only…_

"Wanna help me wash the truck?" He has climbed up onto the veranda and is squinting with one eye closed as the sun streaks unevenly onto him.

"If this is your idea of fun then forget it."

"Of course its fun!" He throws me a dried up old sponge. "Get up."

Who does he think he is? My father? Oh yes, he does, I remember with a smile. _Well let's show him who's in charge_, I smile with an arched brow as I come around the vehicle and lean right across the bonnet once I have soaked the sudsy sponge, making sure to stretch my leg out and showcase my entire lower half- bared by the shortness of my vest-dress.

"Like this?" I whine convincingly.

Troy is standing strangely still with the hose until he realises I have spoken.

"Huh? Oh yeah, like that," he swallows, following my cleaning with a little dribble of water to rid the dirty residue.

"What about inside?" I bend at the side, looking over my shoulder to him and then twist to face him as I realise he is standing behind me deliberately to ogle my ass.

"Troy?" I tip my head in a 'hello?' kind of way.

"Mm?" He comes out of his daydream.

"Are you staring at my ass?"

His eyes have dropped to my chest and I look down, noticing I have two wet patches where my breasts have brushed the wet car as I leaned on it and the cool breeze has puckered my nipples, leaving them evident to his gaze. I lick my lips nervously, blushing at the revelation, only when I meet his eyes again, every worry is melted from my mind and I only feel pure, molten heat spread through my thighs and into my core.

_How does he do that?_ With just a look? It shouldn't be allowed! It's just not fair. I'm not standing here, seducing him with just my hazel eyes, staring at his body like I want to make love with him over and over.

At least I hope I'm not-

"Gotcha!" He grins as he sprays me with water and I find my hot daydream quickly cooled by his water attack.

"How did I know this was gonna happen?" I raise one brow back at him, ready to chase.

He smiles widely. "Gotta be done…"

With that he sprays and runs, earning my soggy sponge in the back of his head, a shot I am secretly proud of until he blasts me with the hose, the water sticking my vest to my skin, my whole body now outlined by the wet garment and I decide fair's fair as I duck and grasp the bucket, waiting for him to track around the truck in pursuit, finding the opportune moment to soak him with the contents, his face shocked- and delighted- at my attack.

"You are so gonna die…" He warns, quickly chasing me and grabbing me around the middle, running water down my top and into my bra.

"No, Troy!" I wriggle, eventually giving in as his hold proves too strong for me.

"Wet through?" He asks into my ear.

"Yes, thank you," I sulk.

"Even your underwear?" He asks, his question entirely inappropriate but shockingly sexy all the same.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I turn on him and grab the hose, pointing it at his chest where it sprays up into his face. "Hah!"

Soon he has captured me again, the hose juggling between us as he holds me to his strong body, his every word about not kissing me before melting away as he pauses, flicking his eyes over my face, panting with his exertion from fighting me.

"We're both wet." His voice is but a husk.

"I know," I grasp those solid shoulders for support.

"I'd really like to kiss you now," he frowns, as if this is the most confusing thing in the world.

"Go ahead," I invite, my body pressed to his, his hard unrelenting muscle carving into my softer, fleshier skin deliciously.

Another pause. Another moment. I'm staring into his face with begging need and he's staring at my lips with a similar squint.

"I can't," he sighs, letting me down, leaving me breathless and shaky with desire.

I nod, knowing why. I bite my lower lip, look to him and then give the tiniest sad smile.

"See you inside."

/

_Ok, so let's review_. Troy wants to kiss me- but can't. I want to kiss him- don't we know it- but can't.

He then entices me into a game of cat and mouse that he very well knew would end in a stand off and here I am, buzzing with unsatisfied need, my warm shower the only friend to my unspent- and frankly unnerving- desire.

Sure, I did Playboy. I kiss boys, I… experiment. But this, _this _is entirely different. It's wrong and right for the same reasons. It feels so good! It feels…invincible. But yet it's not. And that's the problem. Troy believes that if he lets his guard down for one second to actually try this thing out, then he could ultimately put me in danger.

And I get that, I really do. But did he have to tell me? Did he have to tell me how he felt, that he wanted to kiss me at all? It was to soothe my hurt feelings and put the record straight but the cat is out of the bag and it won't go back in. Now without a lot of clawing and hissing at least…

So what do I do? Pretend he never said it? Pretend there is nothing more to it than some kind of weird intrigue he has over what it's like to kiss me? After all, he might not want anything more.

Imagine if our lips touched, really touched- not like last night- and then we both look and each other and go 'You know what? That's just weird.' We'd be devastated. Well, I would. He'd probably just shrug it off in that way he does and go onto the next willing female. And I'm sure there are many…

Why can't I be older? I stamp my feet in the shower and moan out loud at the unfairness of it. Older and fuller and more…desirable? He wouldn't be thinking about kissing me then, he would be doing it.

If only Troy Bolton didn't still see me as a little girl- despite his protests to the contrary.

_So what do I do?_ The question rolls back around. Wear something flimsy? Wear something short?

A smile creeps across my face. _No. _That's what a _girl_ would do. A woman, however, would wear something _sultry. _Something not blatantly sexual but something that hugs her curves and showcases her femininity. _That's what I need to do._

_Shit, why didn't I pack more_, I sigh. I have nothing remotely sultry in my case. I look up to the wardrobe, wondering for one second if there's anything inside. I haven't even checked. I mean, this _is _dad's cabin…maybe mom left something here?

I open the door and find what I am looking for- dresses, four of them, and four suits.

_Way to go parents!_ Sometimes they _can _be cool, I smirk as I finger the evening dresses and try and choose which is best.

I settle for the least formal-looking one. A midnight blue thigh length cocktail dress in velvet, sweetheart neckline, perfect with a necklace and droopy earrings. My hair is dried with the hairdryer, twisted up into a chignon, my make up heavy and smokey- lips slick with colour.

_I'm going to show you, Troy Bolton, just what a woman I can be…._

_/_

…_Well I would do if you weren't fast asleep on the sofa. _

It's funny, really, the irony of it. I must have spent so long getting ready, he fell tired at waiting. And he probably hadn't slept properly since we got here, what with worrying about me and everything. So there is it, my moment to impress over, ruined.

I sigh and let down my hair, wandering to the kitchen to tear off some towel and wipe off my lip colour, grabbing some nacho's and laying them with salsa and cheese and beans to put under the grill.

"Gabriella Montez, seductress extraordinaire…" I muse as I pad around, sneaking glances at the soft- looking Troy. He changed into a fresh t-shirt and some shorts and is curled up, his sensitive- looking hands up by his mouth, his hair fluffed and messy. His lips pout a little in his sleep and it's a lovely sight, one I don't want to lose as I collect my snack and head back over, making room at his feet to sit. It's nice to just sit, sometimes.

"Mm, nacho's…" He knows his food, it seems.

"Mm, want some?" I offer the plate even though he's barely woken and is groggy with sleep.

"What are you wearing?"

So he noticed, then. I feel the red blush warm my cheeks as I study my plate closely.

"A dress."

He frowns. "You look different."

"That's was kind of the point," I admit ruefully.

He rolls up, onto his elbow and squints at me until I shoot him a sideways look. "What?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat and pulls himself up, scratching his hair as he finds his bearings.

"No really," I turn and place my plate on the table in front. "What?"

"You look older, that's all," he raises his brows, still frowning a little in his waking. He's so boyish and cute that I could hug him right there, but I decide that _any _form of contact is strictly prohibited.

"That's the idea," I confirm hopefully, wondering if he will catch my motive.

"It doesn't suit you."

Oh. Well that settles that, at least.

"Thanks." I smile sarcastically, tucking my feet up and crossing my arms.

"You're not _old_," he scoffs on, oblivious apparently to why I decided to try this. "Why would you want to be?"

_Oh I don't know…something about a cute guy thinking I'm just a teenager with no substance…_

"It doesn't matter."

"It must be tough, always being around adults, having to grow up fast…" he postulates. "Is that why you wanted to be part of it and fit in? You wanted to feel like one of those adults?"

I smile contemptuously. "To some people, I'm already an adult, Troy." I remark pointedly. "The reason I dressed like this was to try and show you that."

I get up and head for my room, not believing I have actually let another cat out of the bag. Now there's two of them flying around, trying to be tamed.

"Hey…"

I don't really need to hear any more apologies, any more explanations or justifications or whatever it is he is planning on telling me right now. But I pause anyway, inside the doorway of my room and close to the comfort of my bed.

"Hey," his fingers tickle the underside of my arm where he has reached out and they bring me round, with gentle insistence. "I know you're an adult."

"Really? Could have fooled me." I look up at the doorframe to avoid his gaze.

"I celebrated your birthday didn't I?" He squints. "Your foray into womanhood…"

He's trying to make me smile now. It won't work. I won't let it. Why then, is my mouth twitching?

"Then what is it that I don't have Troy? Because if I was the woman you wanted, if I was a woman, full stop, you wouldn't just be thinking about kissing me. You would be doing it."

My earlier thoughts are aired. They're running around with the two cats and creating havoc- in the pit of my stomach and in the swirl of his eyes. Very slowly, he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, stepping closer to speak, as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear what he is about to say.

But there's no-one here. No-one can hear except me and I am the one who needs to hear it. My body aches for it, my lips throb for it and you know what? Between my thighs my intimacy begs for it, too. _Just tell me how much you want me_. It's all I want to hear…

"If I start kissing you…" he swallows, the words almost pulled from his throat as he figures whether or not to finish his sentence. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."

_There_, he said it. He said it! I sigh and go soft with the meaning of it, closing my eyes and finding his arms around me to stop me sinking to the floor as my knees weaken.

"How do you know unless you try?" I flick my lashes up, in pure wonder.

"I guess I don't," his breath is short, hot against my face, his nose nuzzles mine and I swallow, parting my lips to answer, to encourage, anything to break this spell.

"Troy," It's the perfect word, because after that, he brushes his lips against mine and gently takes my lower lip in his, grazing my mouth with his strong, soft lips and taking everything I'm giving freely- drowsy to his touch, drunk on desire.

My fingers can't resist his hair, my breasts want to be pressed into his chest and against my will almost, I whimper as he breaks away, ending the moment that was too, too short to enjoy.

"That's not going to happen again."

Is he talking to me, or himself? I pop my eyes open as he quickly lets me go and I stumble back, finally landing on my backside as my weak limbs give way. He doesn't even ask me if I'm okay. He doesn't even help me up; he just glares at me and hardens his eyes to ice.

"That's never going to happen again." He repeats and stalks out, shutting my door behind him with a little more force than necessary, making me jump with the sound.

"Ouch," I hiss, only I don't mean the throb on my rump from where I fell or the loud noise that hurt my ears. I mean his words- I mean his exit.

The man is surely made of stone. So why do I want to melt him?


	13. Genius

LilMissEfronJackson- really, Beast is your fave? I so rushed that story but it's one that's kinda special to me. And thanks for the recommendation, I always worry my next story won't be as popular as the last :p

Itsi3, thank you, that made my day to know Troy did that :)

Zacefanno1- tell me more about this Vampire Acadamy- I never heard of it?

**Chapter 13**

Is it another day already? God, and I have to face Troy all over again, after yet another embarrassing incident, only this time I'm happy in the knowledge we both played a part in that kiss. That was not just me being…me.

_He_ kissed _me_. And he knows it. He knows it and he might hate it and he might never want it to happen again but guess what? He can't take it back. It happened.

If he hadn't let me fall on my ass and then walked out, I might actually have woken up with happy little butterflies running around my stomach, but although they are there, they don't flutter. They just kind of churn.

Nothing is ever simple. I should know better than to fall in love with the one person I have no chance of being with. That's just another mark of my sucky life, I guess.

"We've been here more than three days," I tell him as I come out, as if this might cover any awkward moments that might occur.

He has his head in the fridge and I note he is wearing jeans and a long sleeve white top that is soft enough to show off all of the muscles in his torso. Or is that just me being pervy? Anyway, even from behind he looks amazing and I take a breath for courage.

"I know. I have to get supplies tomorrow." He concedes, playing along my 'business' line of conversation.

"You mean 'we'," I amend. "There's no way you're leaving me here alone."

"You'd be safer," he arches a brow.

"You don't know that! Anyone could break in while you're gone!" I gape at his suggestion.

"I have safeguards."

"You told me you wouldn't let me out of your sight." I fold my arms and he blinks, in concession.

"You're right."

"Good."

"But that doesn't mean I should take you everywhere with me. No-one knows you're here, Gabi. I'd like to keep it that way."

"And if someone breaks in while you're gone and rapes me and kills me and cuts me up into little pieces?" I question, finding a hard grimace on his face from my graphic description.

"That's not going to happen."

"You better know so," I remark, shouldering past him to get some eggs for breakfast. Only there are none, so I have to make do with cheese and salad onion on toast.

"Are you sulking?" He checks as he sits down with me, his own concoction of rice and chicken before him.

"No."

"Good. I thought we could go for a walk today, around the woods."

"I thought I wasn't allowed to be seen?" I smart.

He gives me a patient stare. "I'll take care of you."

"Oh goody."

"Look, if you really want to go with me tomorrow then I might have something to make it possible…" He hedges.

I look up, big doe-eyes. "Oh?"

"I have a blonde wig in my case. I take it for emergencies. If you can cover up your pretty face somehow then we might just get away with it."

_I have a pretty face? He thinks I have a pretty face!_

"That won't be hard seeing as I don't have a pretty face," I fish.

"Don't even start that," he warns knowingly and I give him props for second-guessing me. I love that he knows my games as well as he knows my strengths and weaknesses. Even though it makes me a little vulnerable in his presence.

"Fine. Blonde wig it is." I confirm.

"So will you go with me for a walk, then?" He bargains.

I shrug. "If I must."

The walk, as it turns out, is not just 'a walk'. Its actually Troy's secret code for assessing the grounds, setting up traps and noise-makers for intruders and for squinting his sexy-blue eyes to the horizon as if he can smell danger coming.

"They still haven't caught him." He tells me, once we're about a mile out and sitting against a tree, watching the trickle of a river while eating lunch.

"I know." I nod, not wanting to think about that.

"I don't think they're going to." He swallows and I realise he is being completely honest with me.

"What does that mean?"

"That he's going to track us down. That we have to be prepared for anything."

"You're telling me not to kiss you again." I guess easily.

"No," he tips his head toward me, brushing the backs of his fingers against mine where my hand sits on my knee. "I'm asking you to wait until this is over."

My breath hitches; I meet his eyes and wonder, _is he for real? _Does he really mean that?

"It's okay. I know the reality does not live up to the Playboy spread," I smirk to excuse him. "The image of the woman there is not even close to the real thing."

His thumb goes to my cheek, trailing down toward my chin where he pulls his hand away and clears his throat. "Actually I think it's more like the picture doesn't live up to the real thing," he adjusts, shocking me into a blinking stupor, unable to snap away from his intense gaze. "You're a beautiful woman and so much more besides."

_Well, fancy that. _I've finally convinced him. Only, I can't do anything about it and well, that sucks.

"I thought you never wanted to kiss me again?" I hedge, resting my head on the tree, pouting unsurely as I recalled his words.

He looked out, into the distance, breaking our moment. "I have to think like that."

I nod, not quite understanding, but accepting it all the same. "Okay."

"We should get back…" He launches to his feet and wipes his hand down his shorts, reaching out to help me up. I smile thankfully at him and follow him back walking beside him like two friends might. Like two lovers might.

I don't want to ask him if I can hold his hand, but it's swinging beside me, sometimes brushing mine and as I pause to soak in the beauty of the land the cabin has to offer, I find him pacing ahead without me.

"Hey, wait up," I run over and slide my palm into his, looking up as he stops and looks down.

"Keep up," he tells me shortly, surprising me with his command, but his fingers tighten around mine anyway, filling me with comfort.

It's a good job I did take his hand because he's practically having to drag me the way back. It's a lot longer than I remembered and we're moving west, edging around the woods rather than right through them.

"Where are we going?" I wonder confusedly.

"There's a barn, on the West side, over the fence that the farmer owns. I want to check it out." He explains.

"And drag me along?" I whine.

"I don't have a choice." He reminds me.

"I'll wait here."

"You didn't want to be alone earlier!" He laughs incredulously.

"That was before you route marched me around the whole five hundred acres." I mumble.

He turns and gives me a soft look. "Sorry," he presses his lips in. "I'll go slower."

"The sun's getting low," I grab his wrist with my other hand, staying close.

"I know, won't be long," he assures, stalking up to the fence where the barn is in clear view, only fifty feet from the fence. "Climb under," he holds the barbed wire open for me and I comply, watching as he steps back to vault over the entire thing, leaving me gaping.

"Wow, who knew?" I murmur and he grins confidently.

"I try to keep it hidden," he admits.

"Well, don't. That's kinda sexy…"

"Stay here," he drops my hand and presses his fingers very gently to my tummy to pause me outside the barn door, slipping inside to investigate for possible stowaways. My heart is beating so hard I don't even hear him slide back out.

"It's empty." He confirms.

I squint. Should I check, too? What if he's lying?

"You want to see for yourself?" He asks me knowingly and goes over to hold the door open. I peer inside, afraid even of crossing the threshold in case the darkened inside holds a surprise to draw me in.

"Fine." I swallow and meet his eyes. "Sorry."

"You've been through a lot." He nods, and then takes my hand again without me asking as we make our way back home.

It doesn't take long, it's not far at all and I wonder if there's anywhere else someone could be hiding, ready in wait for me. It's all that fills my mind as I stand on the veranda while Troy checks inside the cabin.

What if he's out here, somewhere? What if he's right _here _creeping around? What if he's right behind me?

"Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!" A hand touches my shoulder and I jump a mile high, my heart stopping for five seconds with the fright.

"Gabi, are you okay?" Troy looks at me worriedly.

"Why are you behind me?" I gasp, bending over as my heart thunders wildly in my chest.

"I came out the back…to check the veranda…I thought you saw me." He frowns.

"I guess I scared myself into thinking the stalker was here. Behind me." I sigh, standing again.

"Hey," He touches my arm. "Did you feel something?"

I twist my lips and turn to hug my arms around his neck, suddenly grateful to have him by my side. "Just fear," I confirm, laying my cheek to his shoulder as his arms slowly wrap around me.

"Don't be afraid, Gabi," I feel his lips brush my hair. "I keep telling you I'll protect you."

I sigh, sink into his warmth, and fall sleepy against his strong form. "I know…"

He scoops me up, into his arms and carries me, all the way inside, where he lays me on the bed and tips his head. "I'm here." He reminds me, his voice a mumble through the fog.

"Stay…" I grasp for his hand and pull him back, feeling him comply, just like he had all those nights ago when he spooned me and dried my tears. God, so much has happened since then. So much has changed.

"Just sleep, beautiful, okay?" He husks as I feel my eyes growing heavier.

"You too," I urge before I nod off.

/

I realise it's not actually night-time when I wake. It must have been all of six o'clock when I zonked out, tired from the walk and the adrenaline coursing through me from every eerie minute we stay here.

I raise my head from the bed, seeking reassurance of my surroundings, finding I am exactly where Troy left me- on my bed. For a moment, I think he has gone and I twist over to confirm my fear but then he is there, laid flat like a starfish, sleeping soundly with his little snore.

His adorable snore I could fall in love with.

But even though he has told me to wait, even though he has kissed me- and branded my lips like no other- I also know that falling in love with him has to be the worst thing I could do. One minute he wants me, the next he doesn't; everything is so confusing right now and whatever it is we have- whatever it is that's changed- is only making things worse.

And I can't help thinking its all my fault.

I let my eyes travel down his strong, pumped body, falling on his shorts waist band where his tee has ridden up, baring the trail of hair down his tummy. God, I ache to kiss him there and feel those hairs against my fingers, delve them lower into those soft shorts and see what he is hiding in there.

I tilt my head, seeing his arousal against the soft cotton of his sports shorts and I feel a blush rise up from my chest, scorching my cheeks.

_I shouldn't even be looking! _But somehow, I can't look away. It's there, in front of me and it's a sign he is sexually awake, if not physically. If we were anywhere else, I would crawl over there and kiss him awake, and not by his mouth, I smirk.

But we aren't anywhere else. We're here. In purgatory.

I shift over toward the edge of the bed and hear a moan, finding Troy's arms capturing me in his sleep and he rubs against me as he pulls my soft body backwards, against his chest. His hard-on rubs me too, reminding me of what we can't have. Yet. Maybe ever.

I can just see my dad's face now if I went back and told him I'd fallen in love with my bodyguard. But then where was he? I began to worry again, relaxing back into the bed while Troy used me as his teddy bear and I secretly enjoyed every second of it.

"Where are you dad?" I whisper. "Please be ok."

/

"Can I call Taylor from your phone?"

Okay, we're out of bed. I had to block the whole incident from my mind because nothing will get done otherwise and god knows I'm under strict orders already not to seduce the man standing at the counter, making us dinner from our meagre supplies.

He turns to me, all blue eyes and messy hair. Does he even know what his hair does to my tummy I wonder?

"It's probably not a good idea."

"She might know where my parents are…" I suggest.

"If she knows about the stalker, or suspects anything unusual, it might compromise your safety." He informed.

"How?"

"What if she tells someone and they tip off the press? The guy following you would hear about it. He'd have more ammunition."

"She might be worrying about me." I bite my lip.

"I made sure your friends wouldn't be suspicious of your disappearance." He admits then and I am really confused by this.

"You told them I wasn't going to be around?" I question. "Why?"

"So we wouldn't have them calling the cops and causing more trouble."

"You thought of everything," I muse.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overwhelm you." He throws me an apologetic look.

"Okay," I nod, wondering again if this is true, or just another thing he could be hiding from me.

"Look," he comes around the big table, nervously licking his lips as he twists a seat to sit on it backwards. "There's some things I don't always tell you. Sometimes you don't always need to know. But if you do- or when you do- I tell you, okay?"

"Is there anything else I don't know, Troy?" I wonder. "Because right now, I think I'd prefer to know everything."

Another lick. How I remember that tongue flicking against mine, so strongly. "I found something. Outside. Might be nothing. But someone's been here."

"What?" I stand, gaping and he stands too, cupping my arms.

"You don't have to worry. My noisemaker scared them off. I don't even know if it's an intruder or just a nosey neighbour."

"A neighbour?" I snort. "There's not many of those round here…"

"Do you see why I don't tell you?" He pleads and I take a breath, realising I do this a lot. Over react. Throw a hissy fit. Make him worry.

"Yeah, I do." I concede, sitting down again.

He rises again to finish dinner- some kind of fried potato hash thing with lots of leftovers in it that actually tastes divine.

"So who taught you to cook?" I ask.

"My mom." He smiles back, a surprisingly cute, boyish smile.

"You're pretty good…"

"Just think how you'll starve when this is over." He smirks.

_When this is over_. Oh, god I hadn't even thought about that. Would dad get rid of Troy, then? Would I be left to fend alone? How would I ever survive every day without his smug, annoying, handsome-beyond-reason face? How would I ever feel this way again?

"Yeah," I smile tightly, frightened at the thought of being alone again. And for the first time, I wonder if I shouldn't just give it all up. Sure, I love it. But is it worth this? This hole of loneliness? This broken relationship with my distracted parents? A loveless existence?

Why am I even thinking about love, I scold myself. I'm nineteen years old and able to sleep with whoever I want, whenever I want. Only there's one man I _really _want to sleep with and I can't. So what now? Find the next best thing?

A twinkle appears in my eye as an idea plops in, one that is very dangerous, very risky but altogether genius.

"So what time are we going to town tomorrow?" I ask innocently, rolling his delicious food around my mouth.

"Early. I'll wake you." He assures.

"Really, you're up at dawn every day I suppose?"

"I work out before you get up." He affirms with a dry smile.

"Fine."

"Good."

/

"I look like Dolly Parton…" I turn and give him a petulant stare, the blonde wig looking freaking ridiculous on me, against my naturally brown skin and dark lashes.

"Well," he tips his head, eyeing my boobs and causing me to press my lips in.

"I never said I had her assets," I retort.

He twists his lips so as not to laugh at me and then goes about helping me to tame the mass of blonde, surprisingly doing a good job, leaving me with a smooth bob.

"You should wear something you wouldn't normally." He suggests and I smirk at him.

"My underwear?"

"Ha-ha. Erm…" he thinks aloud, going through his mind, then into my room, going through my suitcase.

"Help yourself," I smart, silently laughing as he finds some panties and blushes.

"I never saw you wear this," he pulls out a long, strapless dress which has a purple bust and a black, long skirt.

"Oh I don't even know why I bought it, I never wear dresses." I dismiss.

"Then this is the one," he hands it to me and I balk, but change into the damn thing anyway, surprised at how different I look, especially when I add flicks of eyeliner and purple lipstick.

"Wow," his eyes brows launch upwards as I come out, feigning ignorance.

"Do I look ok?"

"I always did like playing dress-up," he smiles and I roll my eyes, knowing full well there's only one place he is looking- at the cleavage exposed by the bandeau top. Not that I have much. But enough to keep him interested it seems.

I head for the truck, throwing open the door and sliding in, slipping on some large, sixties style sunglasses to complete my disguise.

"I wouldn't know it was you." He tells me honestly.

"Which look do you prefer?" I wonder and he shrugs, reticent to say. _So it's like that now, is it?_

"When we get there, we just fill the basket, like any other couple on a cabin break." He instructs.

"Mm-mm," I nod, smiling secretly and covering my lips with my fingers as I lean my elbow on the open window.

"And then we pay and then we come back."

"Got it."

Got it, my ass. As soon as he parks up, I make a beeline for the nearest hardware shop and pray there is at least one cute guy working there because I need to test out my theory and it's the only way I know how.

"Good mornin'," A suitable young- maybe early twenties?- guy calls out, fulfilling my hope.

"Hi," I smile back girlishly. "Can you help me?"

"It would be my pleasure, ma'am," he grins back.

"Oh, I'm a_ miss_ not a _ma'am_," I giggle. "I need a wrought iron spanner to fix my shelves you see…"

"Wrought iron?" His brows raise as he recognises I know what I'm talking about. "Right this way, pretty lady," he leads me to the shelf and I hear the tinkle of the bell, notifying of another customer. That must be Troy now, I smirk.

"Oh, can you tell me what _size _I might need?" I look up and smile, removing my glasses to add a flutter of my lashes into my seduction.

"You have the most beautiful eyes…" The clerk tells me, falling for my game hook line and sinker.

"Gabi, what are you playing at?" Troy asks me gruffly coming down the aisle, seemingly peeved that I have managed to escape him for all of mmm, ten seconds.

"I need a spanner," I smile sweetly, and then look to 'Doug', the shop guy. "Don't mind my brother; he's a little moody before lunchtime."

"Ah, your brother," Doug nods and smiles at me. "So, do you need any help fixing your shelves or will your brother do it?"

"Her brother will do it," Troy supplies tersely, lifting his brows as I frown at him.

"You know what?" I tell Doug. "I'll come back when _my brother _decides to stop being a jerk," and with that, I push Troy until he turns and leaves the shop, his whole body tense with anger when we get outside.

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" He glares at me.

"Nothing. I'm just fed up of being indoors with no-one to talk to," I lie.

"No-one to flirt with more like!" He throws his hands up in exasperation.

"Are you jealous, Troy?" I tip my head, secretly getting what I wanted all along.

His jaw twitches where he grinds his teeth. "I'm more concerned about your safety, actually."

"Right," I smile. "Then you won't mind if I go back in there and get his number?" I turn to do just that.

"Gabi…" He warns from behind me.

"Yes, Troy?"

He presses his lips together and his gaze is heavy with intense silence. "Nothing."

/

Okay, so shopping after that little escapade is _awkward._ It's my own fault. I decided to play this stupid, silly game of making Troy jealous and I still don't even know if it worked, because he is still mad at me.

"Come on," I lean into his arm, breasts too, peering up onto his face as he frowns at a tin of beans he has in his hand, pretending to read the label.

"Go away, Gabi," he tells me, making me blink and step back.

_Fine, I will. _

The cake aisle is comforting. I select a Battenberg and a boxed chocolate creation, twisting with them both and crashing into another customer.

"Whoa!" A really tall, really hot guy grins at me, saving my cakes and holding me, too.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I blush, gathering my wits and stepping back a little as he tilts his head.

"You have beautiful eyes," he remarks bemusedly, echoing 'Doug' from the hardware store.

"Oh, thank you," I blush harder and swallow. "And thanks for saving my cake."

I go to pass him and he twists. "You look familiar…"

"Oh, I'm always popping in for groceries," I guffaw fakely, panicking that he may have recognised me, even under this disguise.

"Ah," he nods and I turn away with a sigh, seeing Troy waiting at the end of the aisle.

"There you are," he says tersely.

"You told me to get lost, Troy," I snap back. "I was just complying with your request."

And with that I turn with a flourish and leave him behind.


	14. Hard to Hide

One more chapter after this…I hope you like this one ;)

**Chapter 14**

"So who was that guy?" Troy asks conversationally, in the truck as we head back.

I shrug. "Just a customer."

He nods. "Did he say anything?"

"Just that have beautiful eyes." I repeat.

"Obvious," he snorts to himself, then recovers. "Anything else?"

"That I look familiar."

He looks to me and his fingers which were dragging gently on his lips are now gripping the wheel again as he shifts uncomfortably.

"What did you say?"

"That I go there a lot."

He shakes his head. "He can't have recognised you."

"Do you think it's him?" I wonder quickly.

"No. But we have to be careful nobody notices you. You're a hard woman to hide," he muses.

"You can always lock me in the cabin," I suggest and his dark look tells me he might quite enjoy that.

"You attract attention." He clarifies.

"I don't know how."

"Because you're so damn beautiful," he admits ruefully, laughing at himself at the irony.

"Of course," I nod, pretending this is a joke.

"Well you _do _have amazing eyes." He repeats.

I flick a look to him, frowning. Just what is he hoping to achieve here?

"Thank you."

"Look, things have been screwed up, I know." He sighs as he looks out of his window, checking his mirrors before he pulls over at the side of the road and I look around me nervously.

"Okay…"

"I know I've been confusing the hell out of you too…"

"You can say that again…" I mumble.

"But it's because _I'm _confused, too, okay? I never thought I'd be in this situation."

"What situation, Troy?" I ask, bewildered by his sudden outburst.

"Protecting somebody I care about." He explains.

A fizzing trickles down my belly to my insides, making my blood rush around my body in happy glee. _He cares about me! Oh my god, he really cares about me!_

"It's never happened before?" I look over to him, release my belt and twist in my seat, sensing a long talk.

"Never."

"Because you don't let it." I guess.

"Because it's never happened before." He repeats. "Okay, my choice. But with you, I'm not even getting to choose. I meant what I said before, Gabi. About not being able to do this- about maybe waiting until after…but I should never have pretended I didn't want to at least try…" He sighs out.

"Troy what are you saying?" I beseech.

"That I don't like watching you flirting with other guys." He admits. "And what you did back there was probably purely for my benefit, but it worked. I'm jealous, okay? Your game worked."

Somehow I'm not filled with the satisfaction I should be. Somehow I feel ashamed for ever testing him this way and as he sits there, fighting his every inner emotion I wonder just how long this has been going on and I even realise how hard it is for him with two jobs to do.

For me, all I have to do is run around with him and indulge in my feelings whenever I feel like it. For him- he has to be focused, not just twelve hours a day now, but twenty-four. He has to listen, watch, track and even fight if need be and all I am doing is distracting him, seducing him into a game of cat and mouse that could land us both in danger.

It's got to stop. I've got to start thinking about him, too. And although his admittance reveals he feels the same- and I can't lie, fills me with whooshing happiness- I answer in an understated manner, showing him I can be as controlled as he is, and play his game too, just like he wanted all along.

"It won't happen again," I swallow. "From now on, no more games."

He reaches out and cups my jaw with his hand, smiling softly. "Until you're safe." He bargains.

"Until I'm safe." I agree.

"Good aft'a'noon, young'uns," A voice drawls into Troy's open window, surprising us both.

Troy snaps his head round as quickly as he drops his hand. "Sheriff," he greets, noting the man's uniform and Stetson.

"You outta petrol?" The man of authority asks, nodding his hat tip to me to which I smile back as naturally as I can manage. _Do we look like we're out of petrol? I might have got a kiss had you not interrupted…_

"Nope, just stopping to admire the view," Troy grins, his easy going nature giving off an air of young lovers on a road trip.

"Well, best not to stop out here just in case you don't get started again," the man reveals. "Wild Coyotes been known to chew on lost tourists here…" His laugh is strangely funny in itself and I snicker as Troy guffaws along.

"Best get on, then," Troy nods.

"Be sure to lock up at night." The Sheriff tips his hat as Troy pulls away.

"Will do!"

/

"You gonna sleep for a bit?" Troy checks, later on as I lay on the sofa, dying of boredom.

"Maybe, why?"

"I'm gonna do a quick scout of the grounds. Figured you'd like to rest while I go, though."

I lift my head. "Please don't leave me."

"You'll be okay. I wouldn't go unless I felt sure of it." He says gently and I nod, laying back down.

"Here," he carries over his hoodie, the one he never wears but he used to let me cuddle into when he first came, quickly realising I needed security of some kind.

"Thanks," I pull on the huge, warm garment and fidget into it in comfort, my eyes growing sleepy already. Something about doing nothing all day tires you out.

"I'll be twenty minutes, tops," He assures, asking me to lock the screen door behind him and only answer to him when he returns.

It's so quiet without him. And scary. There's not even a sound, but his presence alone soothes me and I miss him, right away. I almost tug on my trainers and run after him, but I'm afraid that I'll get lost because I don't know which way he went or how fast. He might be halfway round by now. Not likely, but I can always hope.

What he said to me in the car, it meant so much and now he's gone and I didn't even get to kiss him again. Or hug him. Or anything. What if he never came back? What if he's run off into the night and I never see his strong, sexy body again?

_Well, darn. That would suck._

Tonight. Surely we can have a little kiss tonight? I _know _I promised and I know he asked me not to push it, but I hate imagining this being the last time I get to kiss him until after I get home and this whole ordeal is sorted out once for all- however that may be.

How will it be sorted out? I wonder. If the police don't catch him- like Troy thought- and he just keeps tracking us down, then what's the upshot?

I get shot at? Captured? _Raped?_

A slow, constant squealing siren begins somewhere in the cabin and I realise that Troy's trip wire has been, well, tripped.

Instantly, I sit up, hackles rising, hairs on end at the thought of someone being that close to the cabin while Troy is so far away.

_Oh shit, oh shit. It's a fox! A rabbit! The wind!_

"Hello?"

Oh shit, it's a person! What are they doing here at dark, sneaking around, tripping wires? Surely Troy only put the wire in places people _shouldn't be_ sneaking? Damn I wish I knew!

"Hull-oo," The twanged voice called again and it reminded me of someone, I just couldn't think who. "Anyone home? Sheriff here…"

_Sheriff? What was he doing here? Didn't we say goodbye to him on the highway not just over an hour ago? Why would he drive all the way down to THIS cabin and start skulking around?_

"I can see you…"

"Jesus!" I jump, frightened by the voice behind me, wheedling away.

"So there is somebody home," The man drawled as I rise from the sofa, trying to block out the noise of the siren, finding Troy's alarm switch and turning it off.

"Yes, I'm sorry. The alarm set off and I didn't hear you…" I lie, moving toward the locked screen door but not unlocking it.

"Well, we had a report of a stranger hanging around the farm houses down here- maybe sleeping in the barns and what not. Just wanted to make sure he hadn't taken up residence in this old cabin. I know it's not seen much use an' all…" The older man explained all while my heart thrashed heavily in my chest, not knowing what to do- where to run- or even should I run? He's a man of the law, right?

"I haven't seen anyone," I confirm.

"Your…husband?" He guessed. "Not around tonight?"

"He's sleeping in the bedroom," I supply, figuring my lie won't hurt the man who doesn't need to know.

"Oh. Oh well." The man nodded.

"Why did you want to speak to him?" I walk closer to the screen, meeting the man's green-grey eyes.

"No, not exactly. I wanted to tell you to be careful, that's all. I've seen him around these parts before. We haven't got anything on him yet but we think he might have links with the stranger hanging around."

"What kind of links?" I frown, thinking this is absurd. Troy wouldn't harbour fugitives. He checked for them himself and showed me too.

"We're not too sure." The Sheriff murmured and then something hit me squarely in the chest, winding me of every breath I had and almost crippling me to the floor with the realisation, only I fight not to let on, afraid to tip him off.

_He knows who I am! He knows I'm the same girl he saw earlier, without the wig, without the make-up and he didn't even ask! He didn't even wonder, he just KNEW. Shit and double shit! Just who was this person?_

"Do you think he's smuggling people?" I ask with feigned interest, buying for time.

_Where the hell is Troy anyway?_

"Oh, now, I wouldn't like to say," the man smiled, changing tack.

But what if my imagination was working overdrive and Troy _was _the danger? I mean, might he have run off with the 'stranger', knowing the police were close by? Did he even suspect a follow-up visit like this and therefore scarper before he was found? Could it be, that this man, being a police officer and all, would actually know that I was the same person with or without the wig? Wasn't that part of the job spec? He didn't seem rushed, or nervous. He sure as hell wasn't demanding to be let in. And as the long minutes drew on- well beyond the twenty Troy said it would take him to return, my mind became foggier and foggier with details, my gut instinct no longer reliable.

"Well, I should get to bed," I tell the Sherriff, testing his trust.

"So you should," he tips his hat. "Close your front door, now."

"Will do…" I step back about to do so and then something happens. Something I didn't expect and that finalises every doubt in my mind. The Sheriff pulls out something from his back pocket- a knife apparently- and slashes it right through the mesh of the screen door, his face contorting as he rips the material back, while trying to fit his body in.

"No!" I scream. "Troy!"

Oh god, oh god, where do I go? I scrabble across the floor, heading for my room, locking the door and diving under the bed just like he had told me to if this moment ever came and now I couldn't help but think the worst. _What if Troy was hurt? The man had a knife! _And a gun besides, I had seen it on his holster and I cower sharply as he proves me right and a bullet shoots through the lock to free the door.

My breath stuck in my lungs, I will myself not to breathe, or whimper, or cry as I hold every emotion tight in my chest and pray, repeatedly, to anyone who is listening that might be able to help.

"Gabriella, why are you doing this?" He asks like I'm playing a particularly silly game. "You know I'm gonna find you and when I do…"

I shudder at the thought of what he might say next.

"I just wanted you to be mine. Now why didn't you just say yes when I asked you out?"

_Asked me out? What was he talking about? He never asked me out!_

"You don't even remember do you? Down in Orleans. You were buying milkshake and talking with the boys there, yeah I saw it all," he says as he paces around the room, my eyes squinting to watch his feet as trickles of sweat wiggle down from my hair, down my face, even my back as I force myself to stay silent.

"And I came over and paid for your drink and I asked you if you would like dinner, later…"

_Oh my god! I remember! I remember him! A balding middle-aged man, I thanked him for being a fan and politely told him I couldn't. Did he always follow me? Did he always stay out of sight?_

"And everything was fine until you and that hero-man got together."

He must be talking about Troy. But we're not together! He's just my bodyguard! Why does he think-

"I saw him go into your hotel room at night. I saw him walk you to your car. I saw you frolicking on the beach and cuddling in the water, did you think I wouldn't see that?" His tone has changed. He's not Mr. Nice Guy anymore and it fills me with fear. More so even than knowing Troy might be lying somewhere- injured by this man, or worse.

But why? Why is he doing his? Even if Troy and I were together – I wish- then he has no right to break in here and start acting crazy. Okay, he's a stalker. But please, you don't kill the person you supposedly love…

"All I ever wanted was to be your boyfriend. Get to know you like everybody close to you knows you. Know your smile. Your smell. The way you taste…"

_Oh god, _I breathe in as my stomach lurches and he pauses, hearing my breath.

"Where are you Gabriella? Don't make me come and get you…"

Oh god, oh god, oh god…

My heart is lolloping at an unnatural speed against my ribs, the pain and headiness making me faint as I fight to stay sane, to stay conscious.

_Help me! Somebody has to help me!_

"Well, well," I look up, fright blocking my lungs as I see he has pulled up the covers to the bed and found me, quivering and cowering in the small space beneath the bed frame, my fate surely sealed now as I close my eyes and pray for a quick end.

"Hey!" Another voice. _Troy!_

There's fighting, I know. Shouting. And four feet stumbling, wrestling against each other and it's all I can do to just lay there, praying for it all to be over. I pray for Troy, that he beats this crazy dude who wants to kill me. I pray for the crazy man- that he gets some sudden leg pain that cripples him to aid Troy's attack and I pray for my parents, too in that moment, hoping they really are okay.

_Bang. Bang._

Two shots. Oh god. Please…please let that not be Troy. Please…

A stinging pain erupts in my upper arm and I realise the shots came from above- the fight has cascaded onto the bed. The bullets have come through the mattress and one of them has hit me. _Me._ I'm bleeding I realise with shaky hands, cupping the flesh wound as my mind whirls in absolute terror as to what might happen next. Either Troy is going to lift up this bed and pull me out- or the Sheriff is. And I don't hold up long enough to see it. My mind blanks out, right then. I'm gone.

/

"Gabi? Gabi? Wake up; you have to wake up…"

Why are they jiggling me? I frown sulkily and moan in annoyance, somehow not able to speak, yet. _I just woke up, give me a minute…_

"Oh god," Two arms crush me to a hard body and I am helpless to the embrace, everything feels heavy, and fuzzy and…_owwww_.

I hiss in pain as the wound on my arm reawakens my senses and brings me round somewhat faster than before, leaving me to focus groggily on the man who is crushing me with the same arms with which he is also cradling me.

"The ambulance is on the way," he promises me, two blue, panicked eyes meeting mine. "Please, don't die on me yet."

Die? Is he kidding me? I just have a little scratch on my arm and wait…it _is _just a scratch, right?

"Why would I die?" I wonder with a dry throat.

He smiles tearily at me and I have no idea why. All I know, is that his thighs are muscled and hot, and actually, it's quite nice laying here in his lap even if I am bleeding to death, because you know what? If I reach up my left hand- the good one, I can actually curl my fingers into his hair and pretend its okay to do that, along with the brush of my fingers on his cheek and my thumb over his lower lip, where I sure would like to be kissing him right now.

"I love you, Troy," I smile, feeling my heartbeat drop suddenly, wiping me out again.


	15. Alone

Lilypadlover- you never know ;)

EmmaWoodhouse- the sheriff _is _the stalker creep :)

Lol Crystal xx

Smartgirl where you been lol ;) thanks for reviewing each chapter x

And thank you everyone for your brilliant responses! :D

**Chapter 15**

My arm is bandaged. Pretty darn well, actually. I can barely move it, and if I do, it hurts anyway. They gave me stuff for the shock, gave me stuff to sleep and it's been a couple of days but I'm awake- and almost human again.

Troy is here. I hear his voice outside and see his shadow pass by, but he hasn't been in, yet. It seems like he is avoiding me. I wish I knew why.

I lay down my magazine and swallow, tears brimming at the hurt I feel, not from what has happened, but from losing him, so quickly, after.

My mom and dad came. Turns out they took a two week 'break' to Fiji and turned their cell phones off- way to go Parents, I muse. But their guilt is almost amusing. I can play them for months on this. Vacation to Hawaii? _Of course, off you go! _New wardrobe of on-trend outfits? _As soon as you're well enough to shop! _Freedom, and security, all at the same time? _Guaranteed. _Nothing is too much, I smirk.

Only I would give all of that up, for one thing. Just to see his face. Just to hear him say, _I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad you made it._ It seemed like he had cared, when I went down. I remember the sadness in his eyes and his smile when I spoke. Those things aren't easy to forget. But he's gone, nearly. Even though he is feet away, it feels like a million miles and I think I know why that might be.

I think I told him how I feel.

And that's why. I've scared him off. What he said he wanted- what he told me to wait for- it clearly wasn't coming, now. Because although his lips were the last to kiss mine, his absence sends a clearer message than anything else possibly could.

_He doesn't want me anymore._

"Honey, are you okay?" My mom comes in, soothing me quickly.

"I'm fine." I sniffle.

"Are you having nightmares again?"

I nod, my only lie to save face.

"I'll get Troy to come in while you sleep, that might help…"

"No!" I quickly object, but what do you know? She's not listening so she toddles right on out there and prizes him in, much to my annoyance as I flip over and pull the covers over my sore side, hiding myself.

"Honey, you're safe now, okay?" Mom offers and I nod, waiting for her to go.

Safe. But not alone.

I hear him clear his throat and sense movement. Maybe he's sitting down? The flipping of pages confirms he has indeed, seated himself and is now perusing a magazine. _Good for him! Now why doesn't he just tell me he doesn't love me back instead of being a complete moron?_

"Are you asleep?"

It speaks.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"Take it as what you want. You don't care anyway."

"Gabi…"

"Just leave, Troy," I tell him. "At least when you're outside avoiding me I can pretend none of this ever happened."

"I can't leave because your mom will wonder why," he sighs.

"Then tell her the truth. That you decided to ignore me just because I told you how I feel about you."

Silence. _Great._

"I'm not ignoring you."

"No?" I throw down my covers, then wince as the action hurts. I struggle into a sitting position and meet his gaze, for the first time since it happened. For the first time since I was shot. "Then what would you call it?"

He sighs. "Taking a step back."

"Oh god," I roll my eyes, the words almost funny in their predictability.

Troy places down his magazine, dark circles evident under his eyes, his face drawn and stressed. He looks at me for a long moment and all the while our eyes are connected I feel every emotion inside that is so close to the surface- every emotion I felt before I got shot.

"I promised you I would protect you. That's still my oath." He assures me.

"You told me we could have something!" I accuse and I hear a gentle throat clearing from the doorway.

"Dad." I acknowledge and Troy shoots my father a look so see if he has connected the dots.

"Troy, can you give us a moment?" My father asks.

Troy nods and trails out, leaving me one last look over his shoulder, sorrowful and hurt and it tells me everything I need to know. So before my father even opens his mouth, I know this is down to him. He has told Troy there can never be an 'us'. _Way to go dad! You vanish for two weeks and then tell the love of my life to forget about me!_

"It was a condition of Troy's continued employment that he stop any…unprofessional…behaviour right away," My father comes over and strokes my hair, but who cares? My tears are stinging and real. "It was either that, or he leave my employment. He chose to stay on those terms."

_He chose to stay? He chose to STAY? Oh my god, what does that mean?_

"You left without a _word, _dad," I almost snarl. "For two weeks! For two weeks I was frightened and I had _one man _to protect me. One man you _chose._ How _dare _you take him away from me!"

"He hasn't gone has he?" My father argues soothingly, missing my every word.

"He might as well be! Why would you do this?" I wonder. "Why?"

"He could have left…"

"And you would have let me see him?" I challenge, brows raised, staring him down.

His gaze leaves mine and I know then, that no, he wouldn't have. He would have made sure he never came near me again.

"You are unbelievable…" I shake my head.

"Do you want him here or not?" He asks simply.

"Get out."

"I'm your father, don't speak to me like that," he looks stunned.

"Then don't hold me to ransom," I argue coldly. "Now get out."

/

"Help me!" I sit up, soaked in sweat, shaking with fear and adrenaline, my repetitive nightmares waking me again.

"Hey," a soft voice in the shadows, a body next to mine, Troy embraces me and rubs gentle fingers over my dressing. "Is your arm hurting?"

I take gulps of air, fear and pain enveloping me into tears. I can never have it back. Whatever we had- whatever we could have had- it's all gone, now.

"Don't cry," he husks, ready to hold me as I twist and reach up with one arm to support myself against his body, wrapping it around his neck. "Shh," his lips kiss my temple and I close my eyes in bitter-sweet ache.

"This is goodbye isn't it?" I sob, knowing the real reason for my nightmares. I was being attacked, all over again, only Troy wasn't there. He was gone.

"I can't work with you and not be with you," he explains, his own voice breaking and then I realise, he feels the same way I do. He's in limbo, too.

"You stayed as long as he let you, didn't you?" I beseech.

"It's time for me to go now," he confirms, swallowing hard as I pull away and chew my lower lip.

"I don't want you to."

"I have to," he presses his thumb below my lip to release it, leaning down the small distance to kiss me, his lips as soft and beautiful as I remember, his kiss a precious gift I soak in, cupping his face and pressing closer for more of.

"Don't make this harder," he smiles tightly, pulling away.

"Don't go," I beg on a whisper.

"My home is in LA. I don't belong in New York."

"Then I'll come to LA…"

"That's not an option."

I look up, in the dark, meeting his gaze in the murky light, knowing he's not even supposed to be here, right now, or why would he be hiding in the dark?

"You have another job," I swallow, fresh tears cascading my face.

"I leave on Sunday."

_Oh god. _I can't stop the sobs that erupt, big painful sobs that tell a story. A story of love never tested- never tried- never given a chance to grow.

And although I know he couldn't keep being my bodyguard if we had been able to _be more, _I had kind of hoped we might stay in touch. I had kind of hoped the alternative was better. Only this was hell. Pure and only hell.

"Just know I'm thinking of you. Wherever you are," he swallows down his own tears. "Whatever you're doing. I'm there with you, okay?"

_No, it's not okay, _I answer silently, my eyes staring into his accusingly.

"Take care, beautiful."

_But you don't know…I beg for him to hear. You don't know how much I love you! You can't leave me…I need you…I need you more than you know…_

But I watch as he walks away and I know then, he never said 'I love you' back. And I wonder if he would have, at all. I wonder if he ever felt it. And then I smile sadly as more tears slide down my cheeks in knowing that he can't have or this would be real. This would be real instead of a memory dancing before my eyes.

Troy has gone and I'm back to being alone.


	16. New Guard

Didja really think I'd leave it sad? (Elizabeth) Lol

But…and this is a big BUT…

I wrote this ending a long time after the original story so I apologies if it's not up to my usual standard, I just couldn't keep wondering what happened to these two…

I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoy reading your reviews; hope I see you on the next story review board ;) Thank you

Chapter 16

_This is so not happening._

I'm singing. Well, trying to, I should say because right now everyone in the sound booth is fidgeting uncomfortably and frowning with tiredness because I keep flunking this line.

Hell, I keep flunking this whole verse, I muse with a strained sigh. I rub my palm over my forehead and fight for an answer to my apparent singing block.

"Do you need a break?" Antonio asks me, opening the door between the sound booth and myself.

"I need something…" I admit, sagging.

"We should break for the day then because the next artist is waiting…" He informs me and I nod sadly.

"Okay I'm sorry I wasted our time…"

"Look, all that matters right now is you. Is everything okay?" He checks.

"Everything is fine," I assure flatly, pushing open the swishing door that opens into the waiting room. "Everything is just-"

_Holy shitballs._

/

Okay so I might have blacked out. I think it was the fact I only ate a packet of Orio's for lunch (my favourite) but it may have also had something to do with the fact that Troy Bolton was sitting on _that _sofa, in _that _waiting room- only with someone else.

Another girl. Another artist. Someone who used to be me; only it wasn't anymore because that's right- he'd left me. I guess that kind of didn't help my fainting thing.

"Why do you always black out on me?" Troy asks me as I come round, seemingly I am laid on the waiting room sofa as a worried group of onlookers stand around me.

"Wh-?" I frown, trying to put the pieces together, staring at Troy and wondering if he is a figment of my imagination.

"I know, it's confusing," he acknowledged.

"What happened?"

"You walked out, took one look at me and blacked out," he recounted with a grim press of his lips.

"Oh."

"Miss Montez, is everything okay?" The voice comes from the back of the crowd and belongs to a tall man in a sharp suit- walkie talkie in his hand and being spoken into as he breaks through the crowd to reach me. Troy looks over his shoulder to the approaching man-mountain and then looks back to me with a squint.

"You have a new guard?"

Now why should he look so surprised, I wonder? Why should it be _such _a shock that I have a new body guard? After all, it was _he _who left.

"Miss Montez?" Barry asks formally, reminding me I have someone to answer to.

"I'm ok, Barry," I smile wanly and he nods curtly, dissipating the crowd while I finish my…what would you call it? _Liaison? _While I finish my liaison with Troy.

"Well I guess that's me done, then," Troy smiles with one side of his mouth, kind of wryly and I think really, he has no right to look so put-out. What was he doing here, anyway?

As Troy stands to leave, Barry comes back over and touches the back of his hand to my forehead.

"You haven't got a fever." He assures me. "Shall I carry you to the car?"

Now normally, I would have said no and fought every step of the way by myself. Normally I would have smirked at the suggestion I needed help- especially carrying for that matter and have peeled myself up with dead determination. Only somewhere deep inside I want to prove something to Troy. Something inside me wants him to see me being looked after by someone else- the same way he has someone else to look after, too.

_Hah, _I crow internally as Barry lifts me into his arms bridal style and turns with me, toward the squinting, tensed Troy. I see him swallow and then hear the tightness in his voice.

"It was good to see you again."

Really? Well what am I supposed to say to that? It was _great _to see youtoo! So great in fact, that I thought I might pass out from the shock of it all! Ugh.

"Maybe for you," I mutter, carried from the room and placed gently into the passenger seat of the SUV Barry drives.

"Are you okay Miss?" Barry asks as I wipe fast tears from my cheeks and I manage a nod before he lofts the door shut and drives me back to the hotel where I can shut myself away from the world and forget all about Troy and his ridiculously blue eyes.

/

"Is there no God in this world?" I sigh as I push open the lobby door to meet Antonio in the parking lot- he's taking me to work as Barry had an errand to run before he meets me at the studio.

Only who is out there, guarding his precious princess as she signs autographs for the small crowd- a crowd who would have been waiting for me and who seem to actually have been waiting for me as they surge forward past Troy's charge and seemingly aim for me now.

"Gabriella! Gabi! Can we have an autograph?"

_Oh, jeez. _I grit my teeth at being forced into the same twenty feet as _that _man and force a smile out for the devoted crowd who have been waiting for me to appear.

"Hey, sure," I answer the first fan and sign dutifully, trying not to watch Troy from the corner of my eye and failing miserably. He's safely belted the girl into the car that is waiting for her and then he turns back toward me, an indescribable look on his face. I can only liken it to his ambiguous squint of yesterday.

"Are you okay?" He asks over the crowd of fans, who've grown and become stronger.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I smile wanly back.

I see him sigh and curl his lip, his gaze dropping and in that moment I feel my tummy drop at his look. Okay maybe I was a little bit mean, but god, what did he expect would happen? I thought I had gotten over all that and then _wham!_ There he is, in all his muscled, blue eyed glory and somehow I have a total break down. Black out. Malfunction. Should I be _pleased _with this fact? Should I welcome him with open arms? Should I-

"Whoa, easy!" I tease as the teens begin to push forward for attention, rocking me back on my heels.

"Excuse me," Troy firmly drives his body through the crowd, alleviating the pressure I'm facing as they all stand back at his command, something I still find incredibly sexy about him. He can just control anyone with one look and that strong body of his.

"You're not my guard anymore, Troy," I tell him even though my panic subsides as the crowd disperse. Instead my heart is thundering from being close to him again, from being able to look into those eyes again.

"I know," he accepts softly, his voice tinged with regret. "And I'm sorry about that."

I shrug indifferently, the crowd now gone, my arms loose by my sides. "I have someone new."

"Did you fall for him, too?" He asks with a husk, bringing my shocked gaze up the same second I gasp at his words.

"How dare you?" I whisper, squinting at him before I swallow on a tight throat and then turn with an angry flourish, heading back toward the lobby to wait in safety for Antonio. Where the hell was he anyway?

"Gabi…" He calls after me and I feel him following me so I deliberately shut the heavy glass door in his face when I reach the foyer, smirking at his surrendered hands as he pauses the door from injuring him.

"Gabi, please," he tries again as I cross the marble floor and head right for the main desk.

"Security please," I tell the receptionist.

The receptionist smiles and nods over my shoulder. "Mr. Bolton is right behind you, he's a private bodyguard," the lady offers.

"That's who I need security to get away from," I annunciate with clenched teeth and the receptionist lifts her brows in surprise, flicking her eyes between myself and Troy who is now leaning on the counter sideways and trying to get my attention.

"Mr. Bolton, is there a problem?" The receptionist asks him.

"Why are you asking him?" I seethe. "_I'm _the one with the problem! And it's him!" I add for good measure.

"Gabi," he murmurs my name, so sweetly that I have to close my eyes to the sound of his husky voice, tears spilling down my face even now. Why? Why was I letting him do this? I was through all this! I didn't need him anymore. I didn't want him. I didn't…._shit, who am I kidding?_

"Please." He says one more time, just as softly, just as patiently and this time I open my eyes and turn to him.

"What Troy? What could you possibly have to say to me?" I arch my brow in challenge.

"I miss you."

/

He missed me? Is that the best he could do? I should think it was obvious he missed me- I'm a missable person, right?

But oh god, did he have to say it when his eyes were all big and begging and remorseful? Did he have to look so damn gorgeous and smell so damn irresistible? What was this, my unluckiest day?

I took a sigh and smiled grimly. "Poor you." I managed tightly, swiping at my tears before I turned and left the front desk in favour of the bar where the bar man poured me a neat whiskey that I downed in one.

"Thanks, Dave," I whisper as the satisfying burn of the liquid runs down my body.

"Can we talk?" He's behind me, again, with his soft words and pleading eyes.

"Oh god, this sounds like some bad movie plot," I deride and nod to Dave to pour me another shot to which he obliges.

"Don't give her anymore," he tells the barman, stepping close to me. "She's underage."

I open my mouth in indignant shock at his attempt to curb my drinking. "I am _not_!"

"We need to talk," he repeats while I look away moodily.

"I'm sorry if I don't feel much like talking to you right now, _Troy_," I spit, turning on him with squinted eyes. "But you know, I was in love with you when you walked out on me and that's kinda hard to get over…"

I brush by him and head out of the bar.

"That's just the thing!" He calls out, pausing me from my escape as I take laboured breaths in and out, my chest hurting, my heart thumping, my head spinning from the neat alcohol so early in the day.

"I was in love with you too," he adds more softly. "Well, actually, I still am." He amends. "And I'd like to talk about it."

I turn with every intent to tell him '_Now _you want to talk about it? _Now _you love me back?' but somehow, the words don't come.

"You're lying," is what I manage to choke out as tears continue to stream down my face, sobs erupting from the fresh pain I feel at his words, coming too soon, coming too late.

"No, I'm not." He assures in that soft, coarse voice of his. "Please, talk to me."

I close my eyes and realise this is not going to go away until we have talked. I might not want to, it might be the worst thing I ever do, but it has to be done.

"Fine," I concede, making a quick call to Antonio before I trail back to Troy's hotel room where I sit tensely on the chair at the desk.

"Uh…gimme ten minutes to change?" He wonders, his face creased with fatigue.

"Fine, whatever," I shrug, not feeling the nonchalance I exude.

He reappears in jeans and a navy t-shirt, his soft hair messed from his quick change and I notice his fingers rub over his cheek and down over his mouth as if he is struggling with words.

"So you're probably wondering why I'm here…" He begins.

"You might say that."

"I promise I didn't come here to stir anything up- I came with Serena for the job. I had no idea you were here, too." He explained.

"Right." I nod curtly.

"And, god, Gabi, when I saw you yesterday it just _all _came flooding back you know? _Everything._" He sighed.

"Tell me about it."

His eyes flicked to mine. "I'm sorry I shocked you…I didn't know you would…"

"Pass out?" I supply succinctly.

"Yeah, I didn't know…and then it hit me-that maybe you still had feelings for me too. That maybe I wasn't the only one living in denial."

"Troy," I roll my eyes as I stand to face him. "You didn't even _like _me at the start. You didn't even fancy me till you saw my Playboy and you know what? You didn't even say you loved me until you saw me again."

"I loved you from day one." His voice is husky and scratched and I look up at him questioningly.

"What?"

"At first sight. That first day when I knocked on your door to get you up and you pulled it open, wearing some big, ugly check pyjama's with your hair all wavy and loose and your face, oh god," he chuckled. "You looked like you could hit me."

"I wanted to…"

"I know. And I loved you for it. From that very second."

"But you fought it ever since?" I marvel, wishing I could have had that much control and feeling guilty that I hadn't.

"The age gap. The job I had to do…they way you felt about me." He added.

"How did that change anything?"

"Because I knew I couldn't break your heart. I had to get it right."

"You kinda failed," I tell him honestly, with a glimmer of a smile on my lips as his words began to sink in. Maybe he really _did _love me?

"I know," he sighs. "But I have a chance to make up for it."

He catches my hands and holds them, begging me with hurt blue eyes as he brings me closer where I can't escape his gaze. "You still have feelings for me, right?"

"I don't know any more," I shake my head, tears spilling, wondering what is left and what is right as I try and make sense of it all.

He sags, hanging his head. "I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I understand if you don't want to be here. I'll take you to your room…"

"I don't want to be in my room!" I pull my hands away. "I just want to be with someone who loves me!"

"I do love you." He assures quickly

"Then why lie to me?"

He steps closer, raises his hand, winces as he looks into my tear-filled eyes and then goes to touch my cheek with his thumb and finger, stopping before he makes contact, ghosting his caress there as he looks into my eyes and prepares to speak his answer.

"I lied to you because I thought it's what I had to do," he admits, his arm snaking around my middle, pulling me into his warm, solid body, propping me up as my hands meet his chest. "I lied to you because I am the biggest idiot on this earth."

"You said it," I tease, a hopeful smile curling on my lips.

"Can you forgive me?" He begs.

I stare into that handsome face of his and wonder how, how can I stop myself from kissing him when his eyes are begging me to, when his body is pressing into mine like this and when his words have such a deep meaning? _Of course he lied, _I tell myself. _He did it because of Dad to save us both! Forgive him already. Kiss him, already._

"I don't know if I can…" My breathy words are barely-there as I gaze into his eyes, mesmerised, so close we could kiss right now.

"Gabi, I love you. I should never have left," he whispers back and I swallow, knowing he has me, knowing he's had me since we walked into this room to talk.

The meeting of our mouths is slow at first, hesitant, hovering and closing in like neither of us has done this before, only it's a test. A test to see if the other actually does exist and in actual fact does want this as much as we each feel.

It's heaven. His mouth on mine, his lips on mine, his arms holding me tight-so tight- into his big, strong body. I raise my arm, looping it around his neck as I carry on kissing him, tickling his hair with one hand and placing my other hand lower, on that backside I have only dreamed about, secretly smirking at my improvisation.

When Troy pulls back, his breath is hot and quickened and he swallows and smiles. His hair is messed by my one ranging hand- which I have curled into his hair and take great pleasure in ruining further.

"Do have a thing for my ass?" He flips a brow up, flipping my belly with it, his curly grin all too much to bear right now.

"I might have missed it a little," I excuse, squeezing for effect with an innocent smile.

"I missed you, Montez," he admits with a sigh.

"I missed you, too," I lean in for a hug, receiving it, strong and hard around me.

His blue eyes meet mine, guiltily. "I'm sorry I didn't say I love you back, when I had the chance. When you needed to hear it."

"It's okay," I nod.

"I'll make it up to you, Gabi," he lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. "I promise."

/

Okay, so I'm silly in-love.

I'm actually holding hands _in the supermarket_, showing off the tasty hunk that is my boyfriend while I tag ahead, pulling him gently behind me when I turn and smile at him knowingly.

"Why are you going so slow?"

"That not what you normally say," his smile and his look are X –rated. I've told him before not to flash those in public. We got caught the last time he tried that when it ended in an impromptu 'make out' session that got out of hand.

"We have to get Taylor a cake!" I urge of my friend's birthday.

"Remember your birthday?" He husks into my ear, binding his arms around my waist and stopping me, in the middle of the aisles, his PDA off the scale for such a place.

"Yeah, I got a brick thrown at me," I sark.

"You can have a proper one this year…" he offers.

"I'm staying in. It's much safer…"

So, I still sing. I travel my way around the world. And sometimes, Troy comes with me. But he's a Private Investigator now. He can afford time off, if we want to vacation, or travel for my work, and he works to please himself and keep our relationship healthy. And it is. I've never been happier.

Even my parents have noticed.

"So, how long do we actually have to stay at this thing?" He wonders as he hangs behind me while I choose a suitable cake.

"Troy…"

"I'm just asking…"

"Stop perving on my outfit and get a grip. We're not going home before midnight." I warn and he groans in complaint.

"You wore _the _outfit," he beseeches in his defence and he's right. I did. _The _outfit being the one he makes no pretence of loving. The one I wore just for him, on _his _birthday. And that was the first time we made love, two months after we met again at the hotel, two months into our official relationship. And it was amazing, it really was. I smile as I remember it, even now.

"Taylor wanted a doctors and nurses night," I defend, knowing my short, pink nurses coat, pink wig and matching pink stockings, clear stripper shoes and evident cleavage are his secret fantasy.

"You're giving me that smile, too," he twinkles knowingly and I flick my eyes down his decent effort to look like a doctor. His head has a round, silver disk light banded across it. He's wearing a white coat, with nothing under it except his stethoscope and he's even put on white trousers- against his will may I add.

"What smile?"

"The one you do when you're thinking about _it_," he says tightly.

"It?" I wonder, carrying the cake to the till and smiling at the lady as she gives us strange looks because of our attire.

"Sex." He whispers into my ear, making me tense with awareness as an image of him naked pops into my mind.

"You have to stop thinking about it or we'll never get there," I announce crossly as I stride out, box in hand.

"That sounds good to me…is that an option?" He questions hopefully.

"Troy," I swing round, at the car and press my finger to his chest. "Do you remember those days when you wouldn't even _dream _of kissing me? Let alone making love to me?" I question.

"Please don't say making love again…"

"Recall how you controlled your urges and apply the logic," I instruct, sliding into my car.

"I can't go in there in these pants, I have to change," he decides as he straps himself in and then places the cake box over his lap.

"Oh, please," I roll my eyes.

"I mean it. These things are see through."

"Believe me; I'm going to be _enjoying_ that fact…"

"I don't want everyone seeing…my bits," he whispers, making me giggle.

"Troy! As if they would even notice."

We stop at a stop light and he lifts the cake box away. "You wouldn't notice?" he questions of the evident press of his arousal against the thin white material of his trousers, a sight which has me regretting ever going to this party in the first place.

"Put that away!" I scold, flustered and turned on, knowing how his heat feels inside me, knowing how his body loves mine and how perfectly we fit together, only governed by our desire.

"You started it."

"You just have a thing for this outfit…"

"I asked you if we could…before we left," he reminded me and I close my eyes wishing I had now, just to shut him up.

"And turn up late, ruffled?" I question.

"Pull over," he growls and I squint.

"No way."

"I mean it Gabi. You either pull over now or I kiss you anyway."

"A kiss is never just a kiss with you…"

"So pull over and let me do what I really want to do…"

"Tr-"

I have pulled over. He has grabbed me for a kiss and now it's too late to think about anything other than the inevitable. I meet his gaze, panting.

"We have to get home."

"Thank god!" He cheers.

"Taylor will understand. You had stomach- ache, okay? A really, really bad one…"

"You're telling me," he agrees, licking his lips as I speed through traffic.

"So bad, you couldn't leave the house," I run up the stairs to his LA Apartment, using my key to enter, receiving his lips on mine as we twist into the hallway, hitting the walls, his mouth on my neck, his hands running up my thighs.

"I cannot possibly leave this house," he confirms in a growl, suckling my neck again, then lower, toward my bra.

"Troy, we have to stop this," I ache for his hands anywhere on me- everywhere and he seems to comply.

"Stop what?" He is gasping for air, sucking, kissing just as I am groping, rubbing, wanting more.

"Stop making love when we should be celebrating with our friends…"

"I told you not to say that," he complains and I find out why.

We're sated, much later, collapsed on the sofa having not even made it much past the hall.

"Are we too late to drop by?" Troy checks, nuzzling my nose with his as he rests between my thighs.

"Yes, Doctor. You missed your appointment."

A groan, a kiss to my chest. "You should call her."

"I think she would have guessed by now what happened."

"You mean she knows about us? About this?" He looks up, perturbed.

"What else am I meant to say when I'm running twenty minutes late and arrive with a birds nest as hair?" I quip.

"Or grass stains..." he grins in memory.

"Carpet burns," I arch a brow at that one.

"Ouch, sorry," he nuzzles me and places a soft kiss to my mouth this time.

I stretch my arms above my head and wriggle against his heavy body. "I guess I can forgive you."

"I did give you that amazing gift on our six month anniversary…" He smiles, speaking about the hot air balloon ride he had arranged as a surprise. I have to say, it was _entirely _adorable of him. And one of the best days of my life.

"Are you still claiming on that?" I wonder as I play with his hair, wondering how this man could actually be amazing enough to care about six month anniversaries anyway.

_Boy I got lucky_.

A kiss, to my mouth. "Do I have any credit left?"

He had credit. A lot of it.

As we shared ourselves again, we lay spent after, contemplating what had brought us together.

"I know you got shot because of it," he begins, dropping the softest kiss to my scarred arm, "but without that stalker, we would never have this. _Us_."

"It's best not to think about it," I share, now laying on his chest where we've done a full circle.

"I can't help it. I always wonder, _what if…_," he admits.

"Well, what if the guy had shot me anyway but all along, you never loved me and I never loved you?" I question. "We happened for a reason."

"That's why I love you so much," he smiles and kisses my forehead.

"Because I'm so clever?" I fish.

"Because you can tell me when I'm being a doofus."

"You're not a doofus," I amend.

"I over think things."

"It's cute."

"Is that why you love me too?" He fishes right back, trailing fingers down my arm lazily.

"No, it's because of your massive…" I pause with a grin. "Apartment."

His brows-which were raised-fall as he smiles affectionately.

"That's my girl," he squeezes me tight knowingly.

"But I do love you," I add, before I lay my cheek back down to his chest and listen for his heartbeat to will me to sleep.

And it's there, just like he is, beating hard and strong like the love I feel for him in my own veins.

_My (ex) bodyguard. Who'd have thought?_


End file.
